


The Caged Bird's Song

by yupimgross



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, edgeberry, honeymustard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yupimgross/pseuds/yupimgross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My interpretation of Edgeberry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm doing this now.  
> Underswap is super hard for me to write, so let me know if stuff is whack.

 

Sans was humming gently to himself in the kitchen.

Busying himself as he always did. It was such a welcoming sound to come home to. The darker, leaner version of Papyrus sighed through his nasal aperture. Sans was too good for this place. The universe that this Papyrus had lived in all his life was apparently referred to as "Underfell" by his other duplicates across time and space. The name seemed appropriate, he guessed. Dark and dangerous, this world was certainly a fallen and wretched version of others that he had heard of. 

And the kind, boisterous, and determined Sans that came from the equally as charming universe called "Underswap" was certainly too good for this place.

 

He was too good for him. 

 

There was a reason they had given him the distinction of "Fell". Yes, it cleared up the confusion of there being two Papyrus' but it also was a fitting title. He was just as battered, violent, and cruel as the place he had been raised in. It only made sense that he took on the name for himself.

 

 

Finally feeling he had kept to himself long enough, he sauntered into the kitchen. He was drawn by both Sans' soothing song and the smell of dinner sizzling away on the stove. 

There he was, clad in the little apron he loved to use to protect his "battle body" from the pops and splatters of grease. The Papyrus known as Fell watched him with a tender smile. At first he'd thought the frilly apron was stupid, but over time he'd grown to like it. It was adorable and it just seemed to suit the gentle and energetic skeleton.

 

How had Sans ended up with him?

 

Sans apparently didn't know he was home yet. He had not greeted him, and had not made note of his arrival. He laughed quietly to himself. Fell sometimes forgot how silent he was. His stealth inherent from surviving in the kill or be killed world. "Hello, love." He called out, making Sans jump.

 

"Eep!" Sans whipped around, his big blue eyes wide with surprise. His expression of shock devolved into a frown as he made a mad little stomp on his stool. "Fell! Don't _do_ that! You scared me to death!"

 

Fell grinned and then laughed as he walked over to soothe the flustered skeleton. Fuck, he was so cute when he was angry. "Nyeh heh heh." Fell pressed close to him, the stool that the other stood on bringing him just to his collar bone. Sans gasped as he wrapped his arms about his middle, and nuzzled the top of his skull. "I'm sorry. You know I'm an ass."

"L-language!" Sans stammered and gave a half-hearted smack to his chest.

Fell chuckled darkly and trailed a hand from the middle of his back down to cup at his sacrum. Sans flinched at the touch, his breath catching in his throat with a loud gasp. 

He placed a clanking kiss to his forehead as he smiled against his skull. The smaller skeleton was such an anomaly. Even though Fell had touched him, embraced him, kissed him, and made love to him, he always acted like it was new and strange. Fell enjoyed nothing more than to tease him, his reactions never ceased to make him smile. He craned down to rest his skull upon the soft scarf about his neck. Sans sighed and brought his own hands up to grip his hips. Fell groaned at the touch, and buried his face further into his neck, drinking him in. His scent naturally sweet with a hint of spice from his cooking exploits, it was something Fell had grown to crave. Sans' breath hitched as he nipped lightly at his throat.  He sighed against his vertebrae, after a long day away he had missed him dearly.

 

 

A sudden, alarming smell made him stop his admiring.

"Um, Sans?"

Breathy from the attention, the other begrudgingly asked, "W-what?"

"I think the tacos are burning..."

Sans all but tore himself away as he gasped and turned about. "OH MY GOD!" He quickly turned the oven off and hopped down off the stool. Shooing Fell out of the way, he opened the oven, and shouted, "OH NO!" 

Fell actually felt really fucking bad as the smaller skeleton turned around with a tray of burnt taco shells. He looked up at Fell, his normally wide carefree grin a sad frown. He sniffed as he put the tray on top of the stove. 

Oh shit, was he going to cry?! 

He wasn't used to being cooked for and he wasn't used to having someone so lovely within easy reach. The two being together did not make a good combo. As Fell often found himself distracted by his lover.

"Sans...I..." He made forward to try to apologize for distracting him.

 

 

But Sans did not cry.

He took a deep breath and then released it in a sighing huff. His arms crossed over his chest as he took in the burnt shells. "Well, I guess we aren't eating these." Blue eyes cast him a blaming glare. 

 

Fell gave a sheepish, crooked grin and coughed in embarrassed guilt. "Ah-hem, uh, I can make spaghetti if you'd like-"

"No, no! That won't do!" Sans put his fists on his hips, eyes sparking with determination. "You work hard all day being a Royal Guard!" To Fell's surprise the smaller skeleton began to more or less push him, guiding him out of the kitchen.

Though he could stop Sans from whatever it was he was trying to do, he didn't want to further upset him. "Sans, honestly, I can cook. Spaghetti's not that difficult-"

"NO! You need to rest, Fell!" Out of the kitchen, into the living room, and still he shoved him along. 

Fell actually tried to stop, not sure how far this was going to go, and found that Sans only shoved harder. Huh, he hadn't known the little guy was so strong.

 

Finally, Sans stopped man-handling the tall skeleton and directed him to sit on the couch with a commanding point of his finger. Fell stifled back a laugh at the whole situation. Instead he tried one final time to pursue the topic of dinner, "You work hard too, love. You don't need to do it all yourself." 

Sans pouted up at him, and Fell knew he was beat. There was no arguing or rationalizing with a face like that. Sighing in defeat, he sat down on the couch.

 

 

Satisfied, Sans' happy grin returned. Leaning over him, he pecked a quick clanking kiss to his cheek and went back to the kitchen to cook.

Fell put a hand to the spot, his cheeks growing warm, and a smile tugging at his mouth. He was still not sure what he'd done to deserve someone like him.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sans huffed a little in disgruntlement as he came back to the kitchen. Tsking, he took the now-cool tray of burnt shells and dumped them in the trash. Luckily, he had some leftover from the other day that he could heat up. The Fantastic Sans was always prepared for such disasters! While they wouldn’t be as good as their fresh counterparts, it was better than nothing.

 

And it kept Fell from doing more than he had to.

 

He sighed as he turned the stove top back on to keep the taco meat warm. Fell worked too hard. He always came home looking exhausted, and that was on a good day. Sans made a mental note to press him about any new cuts, scratches, or cracks he might have gotten from his Royal Guard duties. Of course, he’d never relent to Sans’ questioning willingly, but eventually he’d cave. Sans always eventually got what he wanted.

Mostly.

 

His mood darkened considerably as he stirred the meat in the pan. He wished he could go outside sometimes. It wasn’t like he didn’t like living with Fell, in fact, he loved it! Fell was a great monster, always looking out for him, so caring and tender with him. Fell would give him anything in the world to make him happy.

But that was just it.

What Sans wanted, Fell couldn’t let him have.

 

 

His mind wandered back to the day that he first arrived here with Fell.

 

It’d been a really neat experience shifting through the dimensions! A strong tug on the soul, and a sickening feeling in his marrow, and then suddenly he was not home. Well, he was home, but not the one that he knew.

Underfell had been…a bit of a shock to Sans.

The two doppelgangers from this universe had told him and Papyrus about it before, but Sans had thought they were exaggerating. Fell had been leery about bringing Sans to his universe. He claimed that it was “incredibly dangerous” and “not exactly your kind of place”. Sans had not listened to that though. He knew it was best for Fell to return. After all, he was a Royal Guard! 

 

He was a Royal Guard. Something Sans dreamed and hoped and wished for so much it hurt. He couldn’t possibly take Fell away from that!

 

 

He wanted Fell to be happy.

Their relationship had been established for a little while by then. Much to Papyrus' disapproval, Sans loved Fell. There was a side to him that not many people got to see. He was rough and a bit crude…and he could be really, _really_ rude, but not around him. Fell treated him with nothing but kindness, and tried his best to get better at being nice to others while he was with him. 

He knew the battle-riddled skeleton had been through a lot. Both of the Underfell brothers had. When they arrived one strange day in his and Papyrus’ universe they had been mean and cruel. Very mean and cruel for that matter! They took what they wanted, pushed those that were weaker around, and overall just terrorized everyone. 

The only thing that had ended up getting them caught was their inability to cooperate with each other…or anybody else for that matter.

It was while they were under Sans and Papy’s supervision that they started to really gain an understanding of what was normal. Sans had taken a shine to Fell, mostly because of the interesting way in which he carried himself, so full of confidence and power! When he found out he was a Royal Guard in his universe it had only made him grow all the more enamored with the skeleton.

 

After some push and pulls in their relationship, they had finally confessed, and Sans had decided it was high time they return to his universe. 

Fell, of course, had been quick to object, but Sans knew he only acted that way for his sake. Fell just had to be dying to get back to his duties! 

Sans could only wish he could be so lucky to be in the guard.

 

Yet, when they arrived in Underfell, he couldn’t help but shiver at the chill and darkness of the place creep over his soul.

Fell had wanted them to go back, of course he was just concerned for Sans. But Sans knew what was best! He had made them stay, and let Fell get back to living his dreams.

 

Even if it meant Sans had to stay cooped up in the house.

 

 

Sans checked on the taco shells, and finding that they were ready, took them out.

“Fell! Food’s done!” He hollered out to the living room. 

 

Silent as a whisper, Fell rounded the corner and got plates and utensils out for the both of them while Sans set the food on the table. They sat and began to eat, Fell particularly excited to have something filling. He loved his cooking. Well, he loved any cooking, really. Apparently, the only thing he’s ever eaten was his own thrown together meals. While his spaghetti was good, he didn’t have the time to perfect his technique, unlike Sans. Sans’ tacos were of the highest quality, and with Fell being a skeleton of high standards he was quick to notice his craft. 

Fell finished his meal, casting him an appreciative half-smile. “Thank you, Sans. It was very good, as always.” 

Sans smiled back, his soul warming from the compliment. “You’re welcome, Fell!” Finishing his last bite, he made to hop down and clean up, when Fell shot to his feet and started doing it before he could manage to get out of his chair.

 

“It’s quite alright. You cooked, I think I can put this up, love.” 

Sans was going to protest, but was silenced by a light clank to the top of his skull. He blushed brightly, remembering Fell's teasing from earlier.

Fell, knowing that he had won his argument with the dirty trick, grinned evilly and winked. Leaving Sans to sit in his seat and simmer, he went to clean the dishes.

 

Oh! Why did he have to be like that? Sans gripped at his scarf and used it to cover the lower half of his face in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure why he always felt so embarrassed. It wasn’t like it was anything new.

His eyes roamed over to the other, washing the dishes at the sink. His cheeks flushed as he took in his frame. Though technically he was Papyrus, just a different form of him, there was something about Fell that was so inherently…different. He was much thinner and more agile as a result, toned from his work with the guard. There were the sharp features of his face, and his deadly red stare so very different than lazy, glazed sockets. The rather voluptuous curves of his pelvis, and the way he flaunted it with the tops of his hips exposed. The arch of his spine…

A shock of embarrassment went up his spine as he noticed Fell watching him over his shoulder.

“Uh! Um! S-sorry!” Sans retreated all the way into his scarf.

Geez! How rude of him to stare!

 

 

The water turned off.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, boi. Here's the good shit.

 

 

He peeked out from his scarf and yelped as still-slightly-wet hands scooped him up. Sans gasped and felt his cheeks grow hotter as Fell carried him bridal-style out of the kitchen, to the stairs…

“F-Fell?” He dared a peek up at the other, and felt his soul stir in his chest.

Oh! He was looking at him in that l-lewd way of his. The red magic blazed in his sockets, his grin widened at his stutter, and his brow raised in curiosity. Before he could gain his wits, he gasped as they were suddenly on their shared bed, Fell crouched over him. The other leaned in close, his breath hot against his chin. “Yes, love?”

The sound of his voice more akin to a growl than anything else, Sans could not bring himself to answer right away. His soul fluttered in his chest. His arms remained fixed upon his chest armor. His mind was blank. No one else could do these things to him, besides Fell.

The larger skeleton chuckled darkly at his muteness, his chest rumbling beneath his fingertips.

 

 

“Hah!” He cried out as Fell returned to his neck, leaving off where he’d started earlier. The other’s long, hot tongue ran across his vertebrae, delving into the dips and valleys. His arms wrapped themselves around Fell’s neck as he was pleasured, pulling him closer.

With a groan, Fell pressed closer, his body nearly shrouding the much smaller skeleton. His hips began to move against his own, his gentle licking becoming a bit rougher.

Sans spread himself open to the questioning movement, letting Fell bring their hips closer.

A deep, reverberating groan made Sans shiver as his scarf was taken from his throat. Somewhat sharp claws raked under his shirt, pulling it up and causing lightning bolts of pleasure to shoot up to his skull. “Fell…ah…” He foggily helped get the top of his battle body off, and tugged off his gloves. Just the way that Fell looked at him… Half naked on the bed, his gaze roaming over his bones, and hands unable to keep off of him. Oh, it was so…so…

Oh, gosh, he didn’t know! He knew that he loved it. It made his soul flame in his ribcage.

Sans grabbed the front of his armor a bit roughly and pulled him down into a kiss.

 

 

Fell stiffened and made a short sound of surprise, but soon relaxed into Sans’ bold advance. They nuzzled their skulls together in a loving skeletal kiss, hands exploring along each other’s bones. Emboldened, Sans grabbed Fell by his hips. He ran his thumbs along their enviable curves, and was rewarded with a moan against his teeth. The other humped him slowly, taking his time with his movements, driving both of them crazy with the need for more. The air between their twining bodies was becoming suffocatingly hot.

Sans was so hot. His soul was all but burning in his chest. “M-mweh! S-stop teasing!” He whined as he pulled at Fell’s hips, directing him to move faster.

 

 

“Sans…” A panting breath, thick with lust breathed just a hair’s-breadth away. His long tongue swiped at his mouth, and Sans gratefully invited him in. It was always so good. No matter how many times they kissed, it didn’t matter. It always felt just as good as the first time. Their tongues clashed, Fell’s sluggish and overpowering, Sans’ desperate and searching.

 

 

The magic that had formed from his pelvis was seeping wetly through his shorts.

While the dry-humping was nice, he needed more. Sans broke from the kiss suddenly, panting against the other’s neck. He licked along Fell’s jaw, making him moan and dig his fingers into the bones they’d been tending to.

Crying out from the oddly pleasurable roughness, he slid his own hands down to grab at Fell’s pants. His nimble hands were quick with the buckle, and he made to undo the zipper, when Fell pulled back.

His lover yanked Sans’ pants off, bringing his petite member springing free. He had no time to prepare himself, as Fell brought himself down and ran his tongue along his magic. Throwing his head back against the bed, Sans’ cry was almost a scream as the heat of his tongue enveloped his dripping member. The tongue was slow, trailing up and down, from head to base. Purposeful and teasing.

Tears pricked at his eyes, and he squirmed, his hips desperately wanting to move, but Fell was cruel and held him still. “HAH! F-FELL!” He raised himself up to look down at the other, and felt his magic twitch terribly. Bright red eyes, glazed and hungry, watched his every reaction. A blush crossing the other’s cheekbones, his tongue dripping with both his own red magic and Sans’ blue precum. A grin stretched wide across his features at his love’s expression. He turned back to the cock in his mouth, and drew his snaking tongue tighter, allowing it to tug and roll along his length.

“MWEH!” Sans’ body arched hard at the sudden intensity, his pelvis aching from need. Sweat beaded his bones, so hot from all the teasing. Oh! He felt like he was going to explode! “FELL! PLEASE!”

 

 

Fell brought him fully into his mouth, his tongue merciless as he suckled on his blue magic.

Stars all but exploded in his vision, the blue magic of his eyes could not help the hearts that took form as he came with a scream. Fell grunted a bit in surprise as Sans’ hands flew forward and gripped at his skull. The tongue continued to pump him until he was spent. The other loosed an appreciative hum that sent a shiver up his spine, the vibration strong against his sensitive member. “AH! F-Fell!” Sans hissed as he slowly released his captive blue cock, though not before snaking about his length to clean up the last of his mess.

Finally releasing his hold upon the other’s skull, Sans fell back onto the bed, his ribcage rising and falling in panting breaths.

 

Wowie!

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

It was such an odd thing, Fell being so gentle and loving. He was fearsome and strong, and deadly at that. But, for Sans, he was a completely different person. He could let himself be open, he could lay himself out to him, and not be worried about being hurt.

Sans was someone he felt comfortable with.

 

Fucking hell, he loved him.

 

Sans lie spread before him on the sheets, a panting, blushing, sweating, dizzy mess. Fell moaned as he brought them into a kiss, and raised his hand up to caress his face. He pulled away a few moments later, admiring the smaller skeleton. Such soft features. His thumb brushed along his cheekbones, so smooth. He chuckled lightly at the other’s expressive blue eyes. Cute little hearts obviously signaling his feelings to the world.

His feelings for Fell.

 

Clanking a kiss to his forehead, he sighed. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, love.” It was only a mumble of a whisper. A confession that he had held for quite some time, and that he couldn’t keep tucked away in his soul.

Sans shot up, nearly making Fell fall backwards in surprise. “REALLY?!”

God, he was quick to recover. Fell couldn’t help the smile that crossed his skull at the stars that twinkled in the other’s eyes. Oh, this skeleton was just too sweet. “Yes, really.” His smile only widened as Sans gasped in his excitement and all but smacked their skulls together in a kiss.

“I love you, Fell!”

 

 

A shock went through his soul. After a lifetime of craving such feelings, it always made him ache to hear those words. They were so genuine and true, and they made him both giddy and fearful.

“I…and I, uh…you too, Sans.”

Fuck, that was stupid. God-fucking-damnit. Shit, his cheekbones were fucking burning. What the hell, why was he was such an idiot? Those words were a bit harder for him to say, but he certainly felt them. Maybe he’d get better at it, one day.

Despite his blunder, Sans was delighted all the same. He clinked their teeth together again with a giggle.

Goddamnit. How could someone be so cute-

“Ah!” He fell backwards as Sans leaned his full weight into his already precarious and off-guard position.

 

 

They landed in a heap near the foot of the bed, Sans laughing on his chest.

God, he was so beautiful when he laughed.

Fell would do anything for this monster. He really truly would. It was a bit terrifying, to be honest. But, it was something he knew to be wholly true.

A hand suddenly lighted upon his face, and he flinched.

Sans had calmed, and he watched him with his kind, blue eyes. The hand caressed the damaged side of his skull, gently exploring the scar over his left eye. It was an old thing, something that no longer hurt him. But it still ached to see it. Memories of the deeds and doings of his line of work, both terrible and horrific. Past sins etched into his skull, drawn forth whenever he saw his reflection. They crawled up his back, and choked him in his sleep.

He hated it.

 

Though Sans felt so proud of him.

He had always wanted to be a Royal Guard.

Maybe in his universe it was a good thing. Maybe in his world it was some fantastic station that bordered on chivalrous. He liked to believe that. He liked to imagine Sans being the hero he always wished to be, clad in shining “battle body”. Maybe it was truly like that. Maybe they helped those that were weak, picked one another up, kept them safe. Maybe they were showered with kisses and thanks.

 

 

Not here.

No. Not here.

He was a pawn, one of many, though certainly one that was more polished and prized. Prized for his ability and readiness to kill. A command was made, and he followed without question. He was one that monsters cowered from. He was one that slunk in the shadows, ready to strike. He was one that held no limits, His Highness’ will be done. He was one that monsters cursed and prayed to never meet.

The day he turned to dust would be worthy of rejoice to many.

 

 

He nuzzled into Sans’ touch, selfishly wishing the other’s pureness of heart could wash away the blood-caked dirt of his past.

Sans leaned down and kissed him gently, and then moved to kiss his forehead, as Fell did so many times to him. As he pulled away, a shiver went up his spine. The small skeleton had a way with those expressive eyes of his. Little hearts formed as a mischievous grin stretched his skull.

Before Fell could question him, he stiffened and gasped as the other began to grind his hips against his own. The magic still pooled in his pelvis began to glow brightly once more, brought back to life by the stimulation. He groaned low in his throat as hands found their way under his armor, running along his ribs, paying close attention to those nearest the bottom. Sans knew what he liked.

He let the other do as he pleased.

Would he have done this for anyone else?

Hell. Fucking. No.

 

But, shit, it was really something else to watch the little guy go to work. He grinned as Sans focused on pleasing him. He looked so serious, it was adorable.

“Nyeh!” He cried out as Sans suddenly moved on to his spine. A hand remained upon his ribs, while the other pumped along his spine. Fell ground his hips into the other’s as the pleasure hit him full force, Sans mercilessly attacking his weak points. “Aah, S-Sans…” He hissed as the hand on his ribs trailed down, taking to tracing his hips. His eyes fell closed as the hand moved to finish undoing his pants. God, after everything from earlier, his magic was so fucking sensitive.

“Shit, Sans!” His eyes flashed open as the other shoved his hand into his pants to grasp at his wanting member. He bucked against his palm, and growled heatedly.

Sans only groaned at his bad-mouthing, and brought his cock out of his pants.

 

 

Shit! The fucking hearts in his eyes, the small pants of excitement, the grin on his skull… Fell could not hold himself back.

He grabbed Sans and rolled them over.

“Hey! Fell-!”

Fell lined himself up with Sans’ pelvic cavity, and was pleased as Sans formed a seeping blue pussy for him. He pressed himself inside carefully, watching for the other’s response.

Sans bit his lower jaw, and clenched his eyes shut, though he made no sound of rejection.

He pressed himself inside, moaning from the hot wetness of his magic. “Sh-shit, Sans.” Fell began to rock himself into the cavity, falling into a steady, shallow rhythm.

The other skeleton threw his legs about his waist, gripping him tight in his pleasure. While one hand gripped onto the sheets for dear life, the other made to cover his face.

Fell growled and grabbed him by the wrist, pinning it above his head. “You’re too pretty to-ahn…c-cover your face.” He huffed as he felt the magic clench around him.

Sans laughed breathily. “Mweh heh…you t-too!”

His cheekbones flushed further, and for a second he was dumbstruck. Though he soon was roused from his surprise as Sans purposefully clenched his magic around his length. Hunching forward, he gripped his spine and slammed himself the rest of the way inside. Pumping his spine, he curbed the roughness of his entry with the pleasurable touches to his sensitive vertebrae.

Goddamnit. Shit! Fell huffed as he rammed the smaller skeleton, his loud cries and mewls of pleasure driving him to the brink.

 

“Fell! Ahn! I-I’m…I’m gonna…ah…hah!”

 

Fell grunted as Sans’ cry signaled him tipping over the edge. He shivered in his grip, his magic squeezing his length hard. After only a few more thrusts, Fell came. His red seed mixing with the other’s blue magic to paint a lovely violet upon the smaller skeleton’s bones.

 

 

Panting from the exertion, he let himself slide off to the side.

Sans, ever quick to recover, wrapped himself around him, and he was quick to pull the other close.

Lying there, listening to the slowly steadying beats of each other’s soul…it was heaven. He began to drift off to sleep, when Sans spoke softly against his chest. “Fell?”

Blissfully sleepy, he yawned and turned onto his side, bringing Sans to his chest in a loving embrace. “Mmm, hm?”

There was a long pause. Long enough to when Fell actually got nervous and looked down to see a very worried Sans, his brows pinched.

“What’s wrong, love?” He brushed a hand against his cheek, coming to rest there in a gesture of comfort.

“Fell! I want you to train me!”

The larger skeleton sighed, and looked away from him.

“If you train me, I can join you on the guard! W-well, maybe not join you, but I can help! Fell, I can do this-“

 

 

“Stop.”

Sans stopped his rambling, his blue eyes looking up at him, full of hope.

They had been over this before. So many times. It hurt to tell him. It hurt to flay open his disabilities to him. But Sans would not listen.

Fell did not want them to live here. Fell hated Underfell. He hated everything about this place. It could go to hell in a hand basket for all he fucking cared.

Yet Sans refused to let them leave.

And yet, he tortured Fell with his pleading.

“Sans, you can’t.” He spoke gently, trying to ease the pain of his words. “It’s too dangerous for you.”

“So train me! I can learn! I-I will work hard, you’ll see! Alphys said-”

 

 

He’d spoken with Alphys, the head of the Royal Guard in Underswap. It was just as he feared. She hadn’t really been training him, too afraid to let the 1 hp monster go into battle. He had the heart, but his body…

God, this was hard.

“I know what Alphys said. But that was Underswap. Training will do you no good, here.”

 

 

Fell winced at Sans’ hurt expression. His sockets filled with tears, but he blinked them back quickly. “O-ok, Fell.” His soul ached in his chest as the smaller skeleton turned around, hiding his face from him.

 

He winced at the pain in his chest, and tried to keep from doing something he’d regret. He wanted nothing more than to help Sans. To give him everything and anything he possible could want. He wanted to make him happy…

But he also wanted him to live.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you all were wondering what song I imagined to be sung in this fic: [it's this one](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Mo_DMGc2v5o). I think it fits well. My own personal opinion however.

 

 

A thin ray of light cast upon his sockets from the shuttered window, just perfectly hitting his skull. Sans opened his eyes, only to wince and snap them shut. More carefully this time, he peeked them open, blinking a few times to clear them of sunspots. The warmth and softness of waking up at his leisure was soon dashed as he saw that he was alone.

 

Fell had left to report for duty.

 

Sans was alone again.

 

Sighing, he pressed a hand to his chest and rubbed at the ache beneath his ribs.

When Fell was gone, and it was only Sans…he felt terribly lonely. It wasn’t that he was clingy, though he loved spending as much time with Fell as he could.

He just missed being able to walk about Snowdin, saying hello to the friendly folks and seeing their smiling faces. He missed recalibrating his puzzles, and patrolling for the human. He missed Papyrus too. He and Papyrus had always been close. They had practically raised each other when they were little, and they had always been inseparable.

Fell and his brother, who went by Red, were not exactly friendly towards each other. Fell acted like he didn’t care if he ever saw his brother again, and in fact ignored him most of the time. Red was extremely antagonistic whenever they were together for any length of time, purposefully picking on Sans in order to get a rise out of his brother. 

 

Which always worked.

 

Sans winced at the memory of them seeing each other again. It was just too terrible! He couldn’t even imagine acting that way towards Papyrus!

He had always wondered why they acted as they did. They were brothers! Brothers should be there to support each other, and be caring and loving!

He missed his brother. He missed just being able to talk to him, give him hugs…he even missed his puns a little! Sometimes he wished they could go back to his world.

His soul gave another sad thump, and he quickly dropped the thought.

 

These thoughts were selfish, and he should not be thinking such things.

 

Sighing, he got out of bed.

Time to go about his daily routine.

Cleaning, cleaning, and more cleaning. That was his routine. The house was already spotless, but it was all he had to busy himself. He had tried being like his brother, a lazy couch potato, but he neither liked sitting for long periods of time nor watching television. 

Especially when the only show on had such terrible language and gore on its bizarre host’s station. Just thinking about the show made his marrow stir in his bones. He really hoped the gore had been just really good effects and acting.

Sans finished cleaning, and realized there was still a good four hours before Fell got off from work.

 

He hated not being busy.

When he stopped working, his mind wandered. And when his mind wandered…

His soul pounded in his chest, loneliness choking his breath.

 

 

You know what would make him feel better?

 

Sans began to hum to himself, a tune from his favorite cool-cat DJ, Napstablook. It was an upbeat song, and it soon got him caught up in its rhythm. Before long he was singing the words in his head, and even began to dance a silly little sway.

He imagined that he was not alone, but rather, Fell was there as well. It was a bit hard to imagine him dancing, but once he really tried he couldn’t help but snicker. While Fell was graceful, he was a bit lanky, all arms and legs. This type of swinging dance would not suit him at all!

 

Hmm, no…maybe pop music wasn’t the best choice for Fell.

 

Sans brought himself to a pause, and took up another melody, this one slower, more elegant. It was a pretty song, one that he secretly held close to his heart as a favorite. Napstablook was well-known for his “sick” rapping, and awesome pop, but Sans was his biggest fan and knew of his lesser known stuff as well! This song was different than all of his other work, and it always managed to bring a good sort of melancholy over him.

Dramatically, he swept himself into a bow towards his imagined partner. Fell dipped himself to Sans, his agile frame perfectly suited for such a performance.

Oh, yes. This song was more his speed. Long, nimble fingers curling about his own, their bodies pressed close as they lilted across the floor. 

For a moment he could have been anywhere that his mind took him. He was anywhere but cooped up in the house that had become his self-imposed cage. Back in Underswap...at the MTT resort, maybe! 

...Or, maybe simply at home in Snowdin, their boots crunching in the snow as they danced. Snowflakes falling and their breath making small puffs in the air. He liked this better. It was beautiful just as it was.

The song's lovely sound made his soul beat. It seemed to rise from within his chest and blossom forth. It teased at his teeth, and he let himself sing. Quietly at first, self-consciously. But he soon allowed himself to breathe and fully enjoy his solo song. He danced on, light on his feet. His imagined partner gave him a wink and a grin at the sound of his voice, and for a moment, Sans could almost swear this was a dream, or a memory of a dream. He giggled to himself in glee.

 

Having grown breathy from his dance, he finished his song, and bowed to his imagined partner in parting.

 

 

His smile soon fell as he was brought back to his harsh reality.

The bliss from moments before melted away, to reveal that he was still here. Trapped.

Somber, blue eyes cast to the living room window, which was always shuttered. Fell had told him they needed to do so or else, “fucking feral kids will throw rocks through the window”. What a terrible place. Such chaos and disorder. Good thing Fell was on the Royal Guard! He just knew things had to be better with him on patrol. Just imagine what this place would be like if they didn’t have him.

 

This world needed him to be here.

 

Sans went over to the shuttered window and tried to peek through the slots. All he could ever see was snow. Though he had been in contact with snow all his life, he wanted desperately to be out there. He craved to touch it, stand in it, breath in the chill of the air...

 

 

Maybe he could go outside? Just for a little while?

 

Sans clicked his teeth in thought, feeling guilty for thinking such things. Fell would be so upset! He warned him nearly every day about the dangers of Underfell.

But maybe if he stayed close to the house? A-and, he could make sure to wear his battle-body! Not that he didn’t always wear it, but still! The armor could protect him, and if things got bad, he could always come back inside!

Fell wouldn’t be home for a little while now… Making up his mind, he decided to go out.

Just for a little bit.

 

Unlocking the three different locks on their front door, he peeked outside for the first time in weeks.

Snow.

Darkness and snow.

 

Not a whole lot to it, but Sans felt excited all the same. Slowly, he made his way out the door, wary of anything that might try to cause him harm. Seeing that there was a whole lot of nothing, he relaxed slightly as he made his way off the porch and delighted in the crunch of snow under his boots. He took a deep breath of Snowdin’s air. It smelled a lot like home. Cold.

“Mweh heh heh.” He giggled quietly to himself. He supposed some things didn’t change! 

 

Crunching his way around to the side of the house, he made sure to keep close to the edge of the woods. If any monsters came by, he would hide in the trees!

 

Everything here was so…quiet. It was a bit unnerving. The small skeleton was a bit relieved by the quiet too. If it was silent, he could listen better for anyone trying to sneak up on him!

The crunch of snow being the only sound, he soon felt his initial excitement wear off, replaced by the pain in his chest. It sure was lonely here.

 

 

“Your voice is lovely.”

 

 

Sans straightened and cast his eyes about. There was no one there. There wasn’t even the whisper of a sound. “Wh-who’s there?” His heated breath sent puffs of steam into the air, the only thing that he could see. His beating soul the only thing he could hear.

 

A large, unfamiliar hand lighted on his shoulder.

 

Without a second thought, Sans ran. He bolted for the house, his legs pumping and soul screaming in his chest to get away. He reached the front porch.

 

But that was all.

 

 

Large, dark paws grasped him round his shoulders and before he knew what was happening he felt himself lifted off the ground. He was weightless, trees and snow and sky blending together-

 

He landed in the snow in a heap, the air rushing from his mouth as he fell onto his chest roughly.

Flipping onto his back, his eyes went wide as a large, black wolf eyed him with icy blue eyes. Hot clouds panted from his maw as he laughed cruelly. “What’s the rush, blue bird?” He stalked forward, his massive paws scratching at the earth. His arms spread out to either side, he made sure to block off any hope of escape for the small skeleton.

 

“G-go away!” Sans tried to warn, blue magic forming in his palm. “I-I don’t want to h-hurt you!”

 

The wolf howled with laughter before he fixed him with his cold gaze. “Go ahead, try.”

 

Sans’ hand shook at the challenge. Though he had trained with Alphys, he had never actually hurt anyone before. He had thought he’d be able to do it, if it was absolutely necessary. But even now, as he lie in such a dangerous position, a foe standing before him…

 

He couldn’t.

 

The magic died in his hands.

Maybe he could negotiate! Violence wasn’t always the answer!

 

“Uhm…No, I won’t hurt you. Sorry, for that!” He brushed the snow off his front, and made to stand. “I am The Fantastic Sans-”

 

 

He yelped as the wolf launched from his stand and tackled him back down to the ground. Slathering jaws snarled above him, sickly hot, smelly breath hitting him full in the face. “I don’t give a damn who you are.” Sans screamed and struggled as the other monster placed a claw upon his chest and tore open his armor and shirt in one swift move. The harshness of it raking a slight gash to his ribs.

 

Fear making his soul flash brightly in his chest, he pleaded to the creature. “Please! S-stop! I-I’ve only got 1 hp!”

The wolf licked along the gash in his bones, lapping up the little beads of marrow that formed there.

“STOP! NO!” Tears fell from his sockets, the pain from the hot tongue on his wounds made his head swim. 

 

 

"What a sweet little blue bird. Singing such a beautiful tune." He gasped as the wolf growled low in his throat and ripped his pants apart with a flick of his claw. 

"AAH! NO! NO!”

In his panic, Sans loosed a bone attack.

 

Blue bones shot up from the ground and stabbed into the beast.

 

When the wolf reared back from the pain with a tremendous howl, Sans scrambled to all fours and shoved himself to his feet.

He ran faster than he’d ever ran in his life. He wasn’t too far away from the house. If he locked the door and hid, he would be safe until Fell-

 

The tattered remains of his pants caught about his bones and he went tumbling forward end-over-end in the snow.

Eyes bright with panic, he tried to get up once more, but a hard smack to his skull sent his vision into a dizzying spiral until it blacked out completely.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I wrote this while drunk.  
> So, if its shitty, sorry.

 

 

Cool wind whipped his tattered scarf about his shoulders.

 

Fell stood watching over the small party of monsters that lie waiting for him in ambush.

Little did the hunters know they were being hunted.

 

These pitiful creatures were conspirers against the King. Traitors. Punishable by death. Their sentence was made, their fates sealed.

And he was their Executor.

 

Huffing to himself, he shook his head. Idiots. How in the hell did they think they were going to get anywhere? There were only the three of them, former guards…and, oddly, the Nasty Cream man.

For whatever reason, they felt that they had a chance.

Probably felt that their politics were more well-suited to govern such a world. According to the King, the only true government that could survive in such a place as this was held by those strong enough to gain power. The lesser monsters were strung up by their insecurities and inabilities, and the system was built upon their weakness. Without the King in power to hold the system in place, well, it would be far worse.

 

Sure, whatever. He didn’t give a damn about the politics. He was a fighter, not a politician.

Nothing else mattered to him, so long as he kept alive.

 

Gingerly, he made his way from his perch in one of the trees, his thin, scraggly frame camouflaged against the twigs and branches. The group below was none the wiser as he lighted into the snow. He stalked forward, a long-bone flashing to life in his hands.

He wanted this to be over quickly.

 

In his haste, a twig snapped beneath his boot.

 

 

The three monsters sprang into position, the two guards taking their places beside one another, while the Nasty Cream man hid behind them.

The traitorous guards flinched when they saw him, recognizing their former higher-up. “Sir- Uh, Papyrus!” The first one, the rabbit, stuttered. He looked quite nervous.

The other, however, was more than prepared to face him. He raised his weapon to the ready, and shifted to place himself slightly in front of the other guard.

 

Fell clenched and unclenched his fist around his long-bone, reading the situation with his well-trained eye and veteran knowledge. The dragon-guard obviously held some passions for the other guard. The rabbit-monster was, well…a rabbit monster. Weak, and volatile to emotions. He knew him, and had been unsupportive of his recruitment from the beginning. He would not shed a tear at his loss.

The dragon guard was a good asset, however.

Strong, dumb, and easily manipulated. What a good soldier.

 

“Stand down, soldiers.” He called out to them, righting himself. He fixed them with his cold-stare, his long-bone humming with its red-magic in his hand. The skeleton was a truly terrifying opponent, as he was lit with the hellish light of his attack.

The rabbit squeaked from beneath his helm, shivering. The dragon was not so easily deterred. He grunted, and the rabbit was quick to stammer, “W-we w-will not be pushed around a-any longer!”

The dragon grabbed hold of his hand, and the other seemed to draw strength from him. He pulled himself together, and brought his weapon to the ready. “We will not be oppressed anymore, Sir. We will make our stand…” The helms looked toward one another, and then back to Fell. “What is being done to the innocent,” He gestured to the Nast Cream man, cowering behind him, “Is wrong.”

 

Fell sniffed. “You think I give a damn?” He stepped forward, and the trio took two steps back. They feared him.

Rightfully so.

“You think I care about your politics? You think I don’t know the world is unfair?”

He laughed “That’s how it fucking goes. The sooner you accept it, the better.”

 

 

The dragon stepped forward, much to the surprise of everyone. He spoke, his voice soft despite his rough demeanor. “We can change.”

 

It made him think of someone else. Someone too full of hope, too full of dreams and promises. Always seeing the good in everyone, always thinking he can change the world with kind words. Thinking everything had good in it, that anything could be redeemed. Everything could be good and whole.

Sans.

 

 

The dragon guard noticed his hesitation, and threw himself forward.

Fell dodged the attack, though not quick enough. A sharp stab of pain shot up from his right humerus as his opponent’s blade cut through bone. Ducking into a roll, he narrowly missed the slash that was meant to cut him in two.

Springing from his roll into a somersault, he launched himself forward as the blade came crashing down into the snow with a loud _thwack._

Leaping from his dodge he caught on to a low-hanging branch and propelled himself forward with his weight. The sound of splintering wood signaled one of the guards smashing their weapon into the tree.

 

Fell, tired of being on the defense, spun about, his weapon at the ready.

The dragon guard crashed into him, clashing weapons with him. The thick sound of metal upon bone sent shivers up his spine. He grunted as the physically more imposing monster forced him back, trying to pin him against the tree a few feet away.

 

Luckily, he knew that was his intent.

 

With an evil grin, he slammed his skull forward and connected with the other’s helm. The dragon guard was caught unaware, and the ring of his helm incapacitated him for only a moment…

But that’s all Fell needed.

 

He called forth a bone attack.

 

 

A scream shattered the otherwise silent woods.

 

 

The dragon guard dropped his weapon.

He turned away from Fell, his concealed gaze falling to the body behind him.

 

Bones of various shapes and sizes skewered him in place, red magic oozing from his wounds to run down their deathly pale surface.

So focused on his partner’s pain, he did not pay attention to his opponent.

 

Fell stabbed the bone through his back, slashing through armor, flesh, muscle, and sinew with a sickening squelch. The other choked, but seemed only focused on the other guard, whom was slowly turning to dust before his eyes.

Retracting his long-bone, he let the dragon-monster crawl to his partner’s dust, before he himself joined him. Their essence joining in the howling wind.

 

The Nasty Cream man cowered, he hadn’t even tried to help them. They had stuck their necks out for him. They had fought for him and all his weak counterparts. Yet he had sat there, too scared to even move to help.

Fell curled his hand as the other pleaded for mercy. Bones erupted from the ground, and ended the miserable excise for a monster.

 

 

Taking a breath, he distanced himself from what he had seen.

Crouching down, he rubbed his magic-stained hands with snow, coating its virgin surface with his sins. He washed it all away.

 

It was done.

His work was done.

He could go home.

Home to the gentle humming of his lover.

 

 

 

He smiled tiredly to himself as he rubbed at his right humerus. Sans was going to have a fit when he got home. But that was fine, he had been careless. He deserved to be heckled a little bit.

 

He drew comfort from the fact that Sans was probably still cleaning or busying himself as he always did. It was still early, and he most likely wasn't expecting Fell to be home yet.

 

He felt bad for making him stay in the house all the time. With Fell being so busy, he hadn't had time to spend with Sans other than his brief moments when he came home from work.

 

 

Today he wanted to do something with him. He was going to surprise him!

He had found one of Sans' books that he'd brought with him to Underfell, a "Dating Guide". While he thought it was silly, it was clearly a well-loved, well-worn book...and he'd even recognized some of the highlighted parts Sans had used for him. 

 

He chuckled to himself. Sans had apparently longed after him long before Fell had gained feelings for him. His cheekbones warmed at the thought. Back when he had been in Underswap, when he had been “detained until duly-noted improvement in behavior” as the other Papyrus had snarked, he had thought the small skeleton was an affliction. All of his strange little behaviors, from always sitting beside him at dinner, to chattering at him nonstop. Following him around, trying to get him to be kind to those who didn’t deserve it, and always hanging off him in one way or another…

It had all been so strange to him. No monster stuck around him like the other Sans’ had. Not even his Sans. The miserable runt usually came sauntering around when he was in heat, but other than that, Papyrus was left to himself. 

And it didn’t bother him.

Well, not until the other Sans started tagging along after him.

 

He started actually trying to keep him around, finding that his companionship was worthwhile and could prove useful. The harsh words that he used with anyone else became a bit softer when it came to Sans. His quickness to anger fizzled at the sound of a sniffle. It had been odd, and it had been difficult for him to make heads and tails of the strange new world and its residents.

Sans had been particularly odd to him. His actions bordering something he would consider insanity in some cases.

 

Like the time he had picked him flowers. 

 

Fell hadn't know what the hell to do with them, and had been very nasty to the skeleton. "Plant your own fucking flowers. I'm not a goddamn gardener!" He had scowled down at him, and cackled a mocking laugh at Sans' stupidness, making the small one blush with embarrassment. 

 

"Th-they're for you..." His eyes had fixed on him, expectant and full of...hope? His hand shook as he held them up to him, their petals a spectrum of lush reds and soothing blues.

 

Fell, confused more than ever, had made the situation only worse. "Why the fuck would I want flowers?"

 

"I-I...I'm sorry!" Dropping the flowers, Sans had run off shortly after the outburst, looking quite hurt from Fell's words.

 

He had been left alone, standing in the cold snow, his only company the discarded bouquet. He had been very _very_ confused. And felt more than a little angry at himself for making Sans upset.

He had tried to plant the flowers, because that's what you do with flowers, right? That’s what they were for…right?

But, again, he was not a gardener.

He really tried to keep them alive, but they ended up dying. He made sure to hide their wilted corpses from Sans. He had felt like he'd failed Sans in some way, and it made his soul hurt. 

It made Fell realize that he had started to hold feelings for him.

 

 

 

The memory warmed his soul, and made him laugh at his obliviousness.

 

Sans had brought him flowers.

How sweet of a gesture. And so fitting for the gentle creature.

 

Fell wanted to do something for Sans. He wanted to show him that he valued their relationship. That he wanted to put work into it. He wanted to try to spend more time with him and make him happy.

 

He planned on taking Sans out on a date. With a little help from the "Dating Guide".

It wasn't something he would be good at, and he would be a nervous, paranoid wreck the entire time...but it'd be worth it.

 

So long as he kept Sans close, he would keep him safe.

And hopefully make him happy.

 

 

It was a long walk home, and a few monsters along the way sized him up, trying to determine if he was too weak to put up a fight. But of course he wasn’t.

He was The Great Papyrus, and something like a gash to the arm was not about to slow him down.

 

A single monster, a red demon-like creature with a too-friendly grin fell in beside him. Fell ignored him. His stats were much lower than his own. This monster would certainly not be stupid enough to try and fight him. After walking for a good ten feet, and the red monster still did not leave, Fell turned to him with a growl. “You have a death wish?”

 

The horned monster’s grin widened as he shrugged apologetically. “No, no. I just thought maybe you’d like to know something that I know.”  

“Get lost.” With a huff he surged ahead, intending to leave him in the dust.

 

“Word around town is that your little skelly’s got a pretty voice.”

 

Fell rounded and gripped him by the front of his shirt. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?”

 

The monster’s grin faltered as sweat beaded upon his brow. “N-now listen! I-If you kill me you won't know what-!”

Fell grasped the monster by one of his horns and snapped it clean in two.

A loud scream pierced the air as the monster struggled in his grasp. “W-wait! Stop! I’ll tell you, but first you need to-!”

“I don’t think so. I’m a guard not a negotiator.” He hissed and wrapped his hand about his other horn. “You’ll tell me, or else-”

 

“N-no! I won’t tell you unless you g-give me 200 coin!”

He gripped his horn tightly, a crack forming through its middle. “Don’t think so.” He crushed the horn within his tight grasp, slowly splintering it into painful slivers.

The monster kicked and screamed, tears streaming from his eyes.

Others watched them, none caring to come to either’s support. They were only slightly interested in the scene. It was just another day in Underfell.

 

"Here's how this is gonna go." Fell brought him forward so that they were eye to eye. "You'll tell me what you know, and I won't break every goddamn bone in your body."

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

Groaning, Sans awoke.

He had to blink a couple times to be sure his eyes were open. Everything was so dark…

 

He shifted into a sitting position, and was confused by his battle-body. It felt different than normal. Oh, wait… His battle body had been torn to shreds! A shiver ran up his spine, and fear gripped at his soul. That big wolf-monster had torn his battle body right off of him! 

Then what was he wearing?

It was too dark to see, but whatever it was, it was a bit tight, almost uncomfortably so. He ran his hands along his body, taking in the strange textures beneath his phalanges. It was covered in…stuff. He really didn’t know what it was, it felt like little plastic pebbles and feathers or something?

 

 

“Ah!” A bright light clicked on suddenly and he quickly covered his sockets. His eyes watered from the initial sting, and even after he tried to get them to adjust, the light was too bright.

“Oh, darling! What a lovely little thing you are!” A voice that he mildly recognized made him peek through his fingers, but he could still not see beyond the brightness. “Dim the light, you idiot! You’re going to blind my new guest!”

 

Sans, finally able to see as the light was drawn away, gasped.

He sat quite high up in the air, suspended in a cage that was nearly too small even for him. He gripped at the bars, and instantly regretted moving from the center as it tipped and began to swing ever so slightly. Falling back onto his bottom, he choked back a wave of nausea.

“Don’t you DARE get sick on your costume! That cost a fortune!” The owner of the voice was a good ten feet below him, looking up with disdain.

 

 

The nausea in his soul only picked up as he realized who was speaking to him.

Mettaton.

His eyes darted to the stage he was suspended over, scenes from the first and only show he had watched from the killer robot flashing behind his sockets. His soul pounded fiercely, remembering the gore and pained screams from the last unfortunate “guest” on his program. “Y-you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

The four-armed robot put two arms on his hips, and crossed the other two across his chest. “Well, what a rude thing to say!”

 

Maybe he doesn't really hurt people. It must all just be part of the show! After all, if they could make such weird and crazy things in anime, they could probably figure something out for tv, right? Sans bit his lower jaw. Oh god! That had been rude a rude thing to say! What had he been thinking? “I’m sorry. I just saw your program and I thought-”

“Oh! A fan?!" Mettaton leapt up to the cage, gripping onto it with his many limbs. The cage swung and dipped, sending Sans smacking against the sides before he was able to catch himself with the bars. Mettaton smiled at him with a terrifying grin. “So wonderful to have you! And I hear you’re talented too!”

 

Talented? Of course he was talented! “Mweh heh heh! Why, yes! I am The Fantastic Sans after all!” He gave his signature pose and award-winning smile to the robot. Mettaton wasn’t so bad, he just looked a bit intimidating. Shame on him for being so weirded out!

Although, why was he was in a cage?

 

Before he could ask, the robot laughed. “Ha ha ha ha! The Fantastic Sans?! Oh, darling! That gaudy title must go!”

Sans' confidence broke apart, he shrunk into himself, embarrassed. He didn’t think it sounded that bad…

 

 

Mettaton’s grin darkened, his eyes fixing on him with an unreadable glint in their depths. “Mmhm hmm! No, darling. I think Bluebird fits you nicely. In fact, it only compliments your new costume!”

“Huh?” Sans looked down and felt his soul stop in his chest. The attire he wore was skin-tight, and revealed much too much of his pelvis and spine. Light blue in color, sparkling sequins decorated it in an artful manner. The strange texture that he thought was feathers were, indeed, feathers. A spectrum of blue tufts sprouted from his hips, no more than a teasing patch of fluff upon his sacrum and Iliac crests. He gasped and tried to cover his lower half in shame, the clothing hid next to nothing where he most needed it! “I don’t want to wear-!”

 

With a laugh, a robotic arm shifted between the bars and reached for him. “It’s all part of the show, darling!” Sans tried to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. The arm gripped him by the forearm and yanked him close. “Now, it's time for your audition! Sing for me, little Bluebird.”

Sans shook his head. He didn't feel like singing! This was crazy! Why would he put him in a costume and throw him in a cage? He was too scared to sing!

 

 

"Am I gonna get my reward, or what?"

 

Sans recognized that voice! And sure enough, there was the black wolf, looking thoroughly bored down on the stage.

Mettaton rolled his eyes at Sans before he turned over his shoulder and called in a sing-song voice, "Darling~! I need to first see if he is as talented as you say!" The robot fixed him with his bizarre, stacked eyes, and grinned toothily. "The price will depend on his talent." The hand on his arm gripped tighter. "And if he wants to _remain_ on the show for more than _one episode_ he'd better _sing_."

 

Gulping at the obvious threat, Sans shook in his grasp. His mind was drawing a blank. He couldn't think of any songs!

 

Mettaton watched him with fastly growing disinterest, his smile quickly becoming a scowl. The hand dug it's sharp digits into his arm, and he cried out. "F-Fell! Fell!" 

Claws releasing his arm to grip at his face, Mettaton growled, "Sing. Or I might just have to give you back. And I don't think you want that. The only other use for you would be a bit unpleasant, I'm sure!" 

Sans' eyes widened at the black wolf, the sting from the scrap on his chest reminding him of his brutish behavior. "O-ok! I-I'll sing!"

With a sweet, tender smile, Mettaton purred, "Go on, darling! The spotlight is all yours!"

 

 

Knees knocking, Sans stammered the beginnings of a Napstablook song. It's upbeat melody coming out crooked and cracked from his terror-filled voice. 

"Hmph. If you can't do better than that, then I'm going to have to-"

"Wait! I'm j-just nervous is all..." He told a little fib, hoping to get on Mettaton's good side. "It's not every day I sing to a star."

 

The trick worked. Mettaton beamed at him, and chuckled. "Well, of course you'd be nervous, darling! But don't worry, I won't bite." 

Sans wasn't so sure of that, but he shrugged the thought off.

He needed to focus! 

Closing his eyes, he pretended he wasn't here. He pretended that he was back at home, surrounded by those who loved him. He would be more than glad to sing if they asked. Just pretend that it was them in front of his closed sockets. Just slip away.

Letting his soul warm his chest, he sang for them. He sang with all his soul, his voice ringing lovely and clear.

 

With the last final notes, he opened his eyes.

 

 

Mettaton watched with a delighted smile, and held his face in glee. To Sans' surprise he clapped a set of his hands for him, while wiping a dramatic tear from his eye. "Oh my! Bravo! My little Bluebird, how wonderfully you sing! Absolutely astounding!"

 

Despite it being a genuine compliment, he felt anything but proud. 

Being put on display for another's amusement in such a way made him feel uncomfortable. The previous joy that came from singing sucked away.

 

 

Mettaton turned to the wolf behind them, "Where on earth did you find such a sweet thing?" 

The wolf, looking suspicious, replied carefully. "Over in Snowdin."

"Snowdin?" Mettaton sized Sans up, appearing to mull something over before his eyes widened in sudden epiphany. "IS THIS _SANS_?!" His eyes roamed about the skeleton, thoroughly confused. "My, he looks...different…" He smirked and winked one of his eyes at him. "Cuter."

 

The wolf barked out a laugh. "Ha! Nah, that shitstain's left town...either that or his brother finally did him in. This is Pap's new whore."

 

Sans bristled at the statement, his cheeks flushing bright blue. "I'm not his- Ugh! Fell is my partner!"

Mettaton stiffened with the sharp sound of clinking metal. "P-partner?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to appear as serious as he could in the ridiculous outfit. "Yes!"

 

"Really?" His stacked eyes narrowed in thought, a thumb pressing to his teeth before his frown curled into a grin. 

He purposefully readjusted his hold on the cage to make it swing. Sans fell to the floor, set off-balance by his previous huffy stance. 

"I hardly think you'd be able to be his partner, darling. Why," Mettaton laughed and placed a hand to his chest, "There's no way you could be. Someone like you couldn't possibly...Ha ha ha! _Withstand_ him."

 

"What?" He blinked in confusion. What in heaven's name was that supposed to mean?

"You're far too soft for him, deary!"

"No I'm not." What did that have to do with anything?

"Hmph,” He tilted his head to the side as he took Sans, tsking disappointedly at what he saw. “And you're certainly not his type."

 

 

"I am too..." Well, he didn't know that for sure. What was his type? It was true Sans had more or less forced himself upon the darker skeleton at first, but Fell had ended up returning his feelings! "H-he loves me!"

Mettaton gave a tittering laugh, one hand waving at his face dramatically. "Oh ho ho! Sweetie! What are you, a child?" 

Sans shrank into the cage. People always thought he was kid. He hated it. It made him seem less of a monster, like others looked down on him. But he wasn’t! He just…he just looked on the positive, that was all. What was wrong with that?

Did Fell think he was childish?

Is that why he wouldn’t train him?

Did he think he couldn’t handle himself?

 

 

"Oh, don’t look so sad, darling! If you cry, you’ll end up staining your costume!” Mettaton patted the top of his skull like he was some small kid, rubbing salt into his wound. “You never had a chance with him. Besides,” Mettaton grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the light. "He's _mine_."

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. I am such a terrible person.

 

 

Laughing, Mettaton released his hold on his cage, purposefully kicking away a little more than necessary, and sending Sans swinging within.

 

He grasped onto the bars for dear life, trying to keep from getting sick. He growled after Mettaton, despite his illness, “What do you mean he’s yours?!” 

Throwing a hand over his eyes dramatically, Mettaton turned on his heel, and struck a pose. “Oh, you poor, poor thing! How truly awful it must be to hear this!” He kicked a nearby lever, and Sans nearly lost his footing as the cage lowered with sickening speed. The cage came to a sudden stop just before it hit the ground, and Sans had to grip the bars tightly in order to keep from falling.

Mettaton grinned at his “guest”. “You must be so heart-broken!”

“Stop it!” Sans hissed. “You’re lying! You’re just trying to get to me!”

“Oh, a jealous lover’s rage! How terrifying-”

 

 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Sans smacked his hands over his mouth at his own unfiltered outburst as tears pricked at his eyes. Mettaton was just trying to make him upset. He was just toying with him!

The robot blinked in surprise, a hand unconsciously posing against his chest in an expression of shock. But he soon pulled himself out of it with an evil glint to his eyes. “Oh, I wouldn’t lie about such a good scoop!" He stalked over to a nearby computer, took a cord from his chassis, and plugged it in. A screen appeared on the stage wall, a projection from the computer.

 

“I’m a T.V. host, darling!”

 

Sans felt the tears run from his eyes at the images that played on the screen. His cheeks grew hot with embarrassment, guilt, anger, and envy.

 

“And I record _everything_!”

A slew of videos of Fell…

From Mettaton’s point of view.

 

 

He wanted to tear his eyes away, but he couldn't. And even if he did, he'd still hear the sounds.

Was this who Fell really was?

This person that was rough, demanding, and...terrifying? 

 

"YOU FUCKING SLUT!" His deep voice growled. Red eyes burning with an emotion he was not familiar with faced towards the camera, Mettaton. The robot could only choke and sputter as Fell gripped him about his throat. Four arms scratching and gripping at skeletal arms. 

Fell grinned terribly, and leaned in to lick at his face. "You love this, don't you, Freak?"

 

He looked so scary.

 

 

Sans really wasn't his type. 

Sans didn't know what to make of his "type". The leather, chains, and rather intimidating objects flashings across the screen made his head whirl. Fell did not seem too imposed by the tools, he wielded them with confidence. He looked like he had done this many times before. And maybe he had.

Sans had no idea.

 

Why hadn't Fell told him about this?

 

 

The images stopped and allowed a particular scene to play out.

Sans' eyes widened at the large knife in Fell's hand, a black substance dripping off its length. 

 

Mettaton's moan and heated pants made up the background as Fell brought the knife to his mouth and licked the questionable substance off the blade. A familiar, hungry glint to Fell's eye made Sans' soul stab with pain. 

 

He looked away from the screen. The images of Fell having sex with the robot made his chest hurt.

 

Mercifully, the screen shut off.

 

Sans crouched down in his cage, pondering what he'd seen. He wasn't Fell's type. But why had he confessed to him?

 

 

 

He hadn't really said he loved him though, had he?

 

Sans had said those words, but in that moment when he had felt both excited and scared...he didn't think Fell needed to say them.

The memory was forever ingrained in his mind, for it had been one of the best moments of his life.

 

It was after he had taken Fell on a date. Their third date, to be exact, though Fell probably didn't know they had been dating to begin with. 

It was simple, just them in Waterfall, sitting on a bench and looking up at the twinkling crystals.

 

Sans leaned against Fell's side. 

Normally, the larger skeleton would pull away from him after a few awkward moments. But this time he didn't. To Sans' surprise, he had shifted and wrapped his arm about his shoulders. He let Sans rest his skull against his collar, and the two of them got more comfortable.

It was nice, just sitting there together like that. Sans felt nervous, but he also felt good. It felt right.

 

Fell did something that he didn't normally do.

He gently ran his hand up and down Sans' upper arm and shoulder. A very small gesture, but it was soothing and warm, and it meant a lot to Sans. To actually have Fell be the one to touch him like that, to be comfortable enough with him to be so off-handedly tender...

It was something else.

 

You wouldn't think the monster capable of acting in such a way if you'd seen him when he first came to Snowdin. 

But lately he'd been...different, at least to Sans.

He spoke more kindly to him, and it even seemed like he cursed a whole lot less. Sans couldn't even remember the last time he'd threatened to kill someone! Fell had shown a remarkable turn-around in his behavior. Sans was proud of him.

 

 

Humming lightly in satisfaction, Sans wrapped his own arms about Fell's middle, lazily toying with his armor.

A content sigh from the monster above him made him look up. Just before he felt the other's teeth clank upon his own.

 

It had been only a few seconds, but it felt anything but brief.

 

Sans' soul practically shot out of his ribcage at the contact, his cheeks burning brightly.

Fell pulled away quickly, giving a small cough, and trying to hide his own embarrassment. "Hiding" wasn't really a good word for it though, considering his cheekbones were just as bright as his own. Their souls beat loudly in their chests, loud enough for them to hear the other's, yet both too nervous to say anything. But Sans felt the pull of Fell's soul, he felt the overwhelming feeling that he himself held within his own chest. 

 

It was strong and unmistakable.

 

It was right then that Sans said the words he knew they both felt. It was right then, in the quiet of Waterfall beneath the sparkling cavern. Right then, in the strong embrace of the one he'd grown to adore so much. 

 

 

He whispered softly, as if the words would fly away if spoken too loudly.

"I love you."

 

Fell gripped him tighter, releasing a held breath in a relieved sigh, and allowed himself to relax. 

He laid his skull atop his own, and Sans nuzzled further into his love. They stayed like that for what must have been hours, listening to each other's soul.

 

It was such a peaceful moment.

And one that he cherished.

 

 

 

 

"Do you understand, darling?"

 

No, he didn't.

 

There was no way Fell could love Sans. He and Fell were too different. Vastly different for that matter.

 

Fell must have just been with him for pity's sake! 

Was that why he was never home?

Did he not want to be around him more than he had to?

Sans thought he was busy with his job, but that could be a lie. He had kept a lot hidden from him, apparently.

 

 

Sans barely knew him.

And it made his soul twist in his chest.

 

 

* * *

 

  

 

Fell dropped the creature to the ground, their horns a mangled and splintered mess.

He had gotten what he needed.

 

 

He sprinted for Snowdin’s dock, praying that the River Person was there.

Mettaton had hold of Sans.

Holy fuck this was bad!

 

Mettaton was an old mistake.

A terrible mistake wrought from the throes of loneliness and pent up desire. He had arrived at the robot’s studio in a drunken state, having relented to his sorrows for the first time in his life. It had all been too much for him to hold on to. All the blood on his hands made him feel dirty, and no matter what he did to try to forget, it wasn’t enough. All the pain he’d inflicted he felt through his scars. And all the anger that he had poured out to the one person that he called family…

It was replaced with burning loneliness.

 

Why did he choose Mettaton on that night, of all monsters?

Why the fuck not? Maybe he saw him on television, maybe he’d heard his voice over the radio, or saw a flyer of his face… It didn’t matter.

He had run out of the house, not wanting to hurt his Sans. Despite him disliking his brother and thinking of him as a waste of space…he couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen to him if he stayed.

 

 

 

Fell, at the time, took advantage of the monster. He was just as lonely as he was, and they both craved a certain…aesthetic…in the bedroom. After that first night, they often engaged in sessions. It was an odd sort of agreement of theirs. He gave the robot the attention he wanted, and the robot was basically his own personal pincushion.

It wasn’t a bad gig.

_At the time._

 

If only Fell knew how bad things would get with Mettaton.

The robot seemed to think because Fell wanted sex that meant they were a partnership. He constantly asked after him, and tried to be at his side as often as his “busy schedule would allow”. Fell began to hate him. He told him off many, many times, but the bot wouldn’t go.

He was insane.

Eventually, Fell relented. He gave up trying to get him to leave him alone. Insane or not, the sex was good. Oh, well. Guess you had to be a little messed up to like some of the shit they did, he supposed. Mettaton was fucked up. Fell was fucked up. They got fucked up together. They fucking fucked it up all goddamn night.

So, no big deal...

 

 

 

That is, until he met Sans.

 

 

 

Finally at the River Person’s dock, he barked out his need to get to Hotland, and the River Person tittered out his odd little tune before setting them off to their destination.

“ _Tra La La._ Not all actions speak louder than words."

Fell did not care for his riddles. He needed to get to Sans! He sat fiddling in his seat as the boat took off, unable to keep his mind quiet.

 

He hadn’t felt anything beyond lust for someone before.

It was…a different feeling entirely. And he found that he enjoyed Sans’ presence, not because he was attractive (though he certainly was), but because he made him feel good. He started to enjoy his conversation, his mannerisms, his little ticks. Fell had never experienced something like that with another monster.

Though he lusted after the small skeleton, it was something he didn’t really want to act on at first. He was curious of the monster, and it stayed his primal side.

 

And when Sans spoke those words to him, whispering them against his chest, the lights of magic crystals dancing in his sockets…he felt so much more than he ever thought possible.

 

When they finally did make love for the first time, it was beneath those sparkling lights. Fell had never thought sex could be so deep and wonderful. It was the most amazing night of his life.

Without the exciting stimuli, and without the fear and pain… It was different. He found that he liked it.

It was good because he was with Sans.

It was good because he loved him.

 

And since that day he knew that Sans was his, and he was Sans’.

 

 

Mettaton didn’t understand. And Fell didn’t blame him. For he had only just experienced these things, and he still was uncertain.

He felt pity for Mettaton.

 

 

But if he had hurt Sans…

He was dead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who said this was going to be a short fic?  
> I did?!  
> Really???
> 
> ...and you believed something I said. Well, that's your fault then, now isn't it?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK ME I'M MTT TRASH.

 

 

The tables were filled with all manner of monsters.

Large and small, ugly and beautiful, old and young.

They all watched him, some attentively fixed upon him while others talked amongst themselves, enjoying the show with friends.

 

No matter who they were, they had come for him.

 

He looked on as he danced to the upbeat melody of his song. It certainly was not his best singing, and he didn’t care. What they really liked was his dancing. His body moved on its own, his mind empty and devoid. He found that keeping himself distant kept him from crying.

Sans hated the way they all looked at him.

The skimpy outfit made sense now, they didn’t care for his singing. Wicked eyes trained on his hips as he moved, cruel and sinful intent plain on many of their faces. Sans wasn’t a performer…he was an attraction.

 

 

Mettaton came onto the stage once he finished his performance. The robot flashed a smile as the audience cheered and whistled at Sans. “ _OHHHHHH YESSS!!!_ How _sensational_! Give it up for our little Bluebird, darlings!”

The cheering audience roared, clapping and pounding fists on tables making a tremendous racket.

He could practically see the excitement Mettaton felt. Sans had brought in more monsters than he could fit in his building. They crowded the aisles, and more than a couple fights had broken out from someone bumping someone else, or disputes over a table. Sans was disgusted by them all.

Coming in here to look at him, to eye him in such terrible ways. It made his marrow feel thick in his bones. He felt so…exposed.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t cry.

If he cried, if he didn’t sing, if he didn’t perform…well, he wouldn’t exactly get to have a second showing.

 

 

Sans had tried to not give in.

He had tried to tell Mettaton off. The Fantastic Sans would not flaunt himself for hoodlums, drunks, and back-alley goers! “I will _not_ do something so demeaning!” He tried to negotiate with the robot. “Please, I don’t mind singing. J-just not like this…”

 

Mettaton had shed a tear at his statement, though he sounded anything but sad as he spoke. “Oh, darling!” He sighed dramatically, “I’m so sorry to hear that you won’t perform for my lovely audience!” He turned away from Sans, strutting towards a nearby stage-prop box. Rummaging through its contents, he called over his shoulder to Sans, “Curses! Such a waste of talent! Such a terrible, awful waste! Why, someone might even say it’s a…”

The sound of a revving engine had made Sans flinch. WHAT?! WHAT WAS THAT-

“ _damn shame._ ” The robot whipped on his heel and rushed forwards. Sans flattened himself against the back of his cage as a chainsaw slammed down against the bars of his cage. The atrocious screech of metal grinding on metal made Sans fall into a small heap at the bottom of the cage and clasp his hands to his skull, his screams drowned out by the shrieking sound.

 

Over the roaring, metallic whine, the robot laughed. “HAHAHAHAHA!!!“

 

 

He wanted it to stop! He wished he’d never left the house! He wished he’d never come to Underfell! He wished he’d never met…

Tears ran from his sockets as he cried, a loud wail breaking from his teeth.

 

The chainsaw died down.

 

Mettaton stood panting before him, his hair a mess about his shoulders, his eyes sparking with an unsteady excitement. “So, darling~ I wouldn’t normally extend a second offer, but…” He revved the engine again, the smell of oil and smoke thick in the air. It smelled like Mettaton. “What do you say?”

Sans shivered and nodded his head rapidly in affirmation. Too scared to do more. This robot was insane!

Clicking off the monstrous tool, his face lit up with excitement. “Wonderful! You’ll be on at 6!”

He spun on his heel, the chainsaw swinging at his hip with a bizarrely simple ease. He flashed a smile over his shoulder at the terrified skeleton. Leaving him with one final wink and grin. “Oh, and darling? _Break a leg_.”

 

 

The bright light of the spotlight fixing on him once more broke him from his thoughts.

A filter was placed over the light, casting him in a blue glow. The mood was set for something sad and mellow. It was what Mettaton wanted, he supposed. His soul felt low in his chest, the words of Napstablooks sweet song the only one he knew for this. It hurt to use the song he loved so deeply for such an instance, but he had no choice.

 

 

Sans clenched his hands at his hips, his voice flowing like sweet honey through the bars of his cage. Though it was a beautiful song, he sang it with a hole in his soul, an emptiness flowing forth to muddle its tune into something terribly sad and rich. It made the normally rowdy audience pause. He grasped at the rusty iron of his prison.

Normally he could drift away into his thoughts, let himself be freed of his surroundings as his voice took over. He could vanish into his song and be anywhere he wished in the world… But now, he couldn’t even imagine he was anywhere but here.

In fact, it was this place that inspired such a terrible ache in his chest. That made his soul cry out with such sadness. He felt so alone. Despite the sea of eyes, he was isolated. Stuck in a cage, trapped, locked away.

 

As he reached the ending notes of his song, he slid down the bars, resting his face against the coolness of the metal. He wanted to cry, but he knew that the crowd would only enjoy it.

 

The small Bluebird, singing his sad song, pouring his heart out for all the world to hear. Why was it that he sang? If he did not, it would be his ruin. It would be his end, body, mind, and soul. He sang to forget, he sang with regret, but the sound was still his. While he was not his own, in his little cage. His song and his voice was still his.

 

 

As the last note died on his tongue, the audience sat silent. Enraptured by his voice.

A roaring applause broke the silence with a sledgehammer, whistles and cheers breaking through to praise him and his broken soul.

 

Mettaton came out onto the stage. He looked at Sans with awe. True, actual awe. “Oh, my… Th-that was...” He quickly brought himself back out of his shock, and beamed at the audience as they died down to hear the robot speak. “MAGNIFICENT! What a wonderful singer he is! My, my, what an outstanding voice!”

 

 

“IT SURE FUCKING IS, _METTATON_!”

The crowd turned to the source of the sudden interruption, all eyes glued on the monster standing in the doorway.

The sound of a mic dropping was the only other sound as the monster roared. “SHOWS FUCKING OVER, ASSHOLES!” His voice dropped into a low growl, seething with deadly promise. “Get out, if you want to live.”

Red magic blazed in his hands, his eyes alight with unbridled rage.

 

Fell?

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Why was no one leaving?

 

Fell cast his eyes about the audience, they all sat looking at him expectantly.

A chill ran up his spine. Why were they all just sitting there?!

 

The sound of a chainsaw revving to life made his soul leap into his throat.

“FELL! HELP!”

On the stage, the killer robot held the power tool to the cage, its teeth whirring dangerously, rivaling the sharp-toothed grin of its wielder. Mettaton spoke, his voice booming over the roar of the chainsaw. “PAPYPRUS, DARLING! SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!”

Fell made his way to the stage, quickly but carefully picking his way through the crowd. The monsters watched him with interest, eyeing him up and down. Did they think this was part of the performance?

Mettaton kept his weapon to the cage, ready to shove its blade through the bars. Fell didn’t want to think about what would happen next.

“Sans!” He trained his eyes upon the small skeleton, hunched and shivering in the cage. His battle body gone, replaced with a gaudy, revealing suit. His bones rattled at the exposure the other must have been subjected to, a sick form of entertainment to prying eyes. Tears streamed from his bright blue eyes as he looked at Fell with fear and hope. “Sans, I’m here! I’ll-“

The other turned away from him, burying his face into his knees at his chest.

His soul wrenched in his chest. “Sans?”

What had Mettaton done to him?

 

 

The robot broke him from his thoughts. “Papy-dear, what brings you here? Certainly you haven’t come to see this little _wretch_?” His smile faltered, his inner cruelty breaking through his pleasant guise.

Fell needed to approach this carefully. “Mett, look…” He used the pet name he had given to the robot some odd years ago, hoping it might ease him out of his bloodlust. He eyed the chainsaw, still chugging away in the robot’s hands. “We need to talk…”

 

Mettaton laughed, and flipped his hair with one of his many arms. “Oh, darling, we are so far _beyond_ words.” His grin widened. “And you know what they say, actions speak louder than words! And now if your time to act!” Sing-song and full of moxie, he placed a hand to his chest. “There is something I want from you, Papy-dearest~.”

Despite his uncanny ability to read people, he could never figure out how to pin down the robot. He chose his next words carefully. “Alright, I’ll…consider it, if you promise to put the chainsaw down.” He looked pointedly at the weapon pointed at Sans, rearing to tear him to shreds.

 

 

His cruel and wicked grin all but broke across his face as he hissed, “We don’t make promises, deary, remember? Only contracts.”

Fell swallowed at his words, his sins crawling up his back. He had said as much to Mettaton before. He had said those very words to avoid being tied to something he didn’t want to be a part of.

Mettaton must have seen the dread in his eyes, for he fixed him with his stare, knowing he was winning. “And as part of this contract, darling, I’m afraid I’ll need your word before I tell you what I want.”

Fell clenched his fists, he didn’t like this. This was some kind of trick. But if he didn’t agree… He sighed angrily and growled low in his throat, “What is it you want?”

The chainsaw revved, and Sans cried out in fear as it inched closer.

“NO! WAIT!” Fell started forward, but stopped as Mettaton tsked and waggled a finger against his actions. The skeleton grit his teeth, and looked over to his cowering lover in the cage. His eyes focused back on to him, fear predominant in their depths. “Sans…I-”

“What do you say, darling?” Mettaton hissed, staring him down. “Deal?”

He couldn’t risk attacking. If he loosed an attack, Mettaton could very easily-

Fell did not finish the thought.

“Deal.”

 

 

“Good. Come here.”

Not sure what the robot had planned, he came to stand before him. Sans was right there, within reach but so far away. It killed him to see him behind those bars, so afraid. He wished he could embrace him, kiss him gently, tell him everything would be fine. He wanted to tell him over and over that he was sorry, that it was all his fault. And it was all his fault. If he had been more persistent and insisted that they stay in Underswap, none of this would have happened.

Mettaton laughed a terrible, chiming laugh. Much too innocent and sweet for his next words. “On your knees.”

Fell stood dumbfounded, not sure what it was the robot had planned. “I…what?”

“On. Your. Knees. _Darling._ ”

Sans watched their exchange, his eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. Fell needed to do as Mettaton asked, or risk losing him. Swallowing down his pride, he knelt.

“Good boy.” His eyes widened as he realized what it was Mettaton wanted from him.

“N-no, Metta-“

The robot merely smiled, victorious rage glinting in his eye. “What was that? Did you just say _no_ , darling? Are you refusing our contract?”

 

 

“YEAH, FUCK HIM UP, MTT!”

The skeleton looked to the crowd as they cheered from the anonymous crier’s outburst. Laughter broke out amongst the sea of faces.

They were laughing at him.

He suddenly felt every eye upon him, staring through him.

None of these monsters showed fear in him. None of them ran from his stare or from his dangerous disposition. Upon this stage, he was beneath them.

A spectacle for their amusement.

 

 

Mettaton gripped him beneath his chin, his stacked eyes full of hate. “Everyone will know who you _really_ belong to, Papy-dear.” His marrow churned in his bones as the robot opened the hatch at his hips.

“Don’t do this.” He pleaded, as his eyes darted about the crowd, realizing the grins and smirks that watched him flounder. Watching as Mettaton brought his cock out. Waiting to see him take the Royal Guard right there and now for everyone to see, the cameras rolling.

None of them feared him.

 

Whispering words and quiet laughter made him sweat, and his knees feel weak. He felt sick. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

None of them feared him.

 

Mettaton brought his cock up to his teeth, and Fell shivered, his breath ragged in his chest. His soul pounded terribly. He looked up at the robot, truly afraid of the mad spark in his eyes.

If he did this to him,

He would be ruined.

 

 

“FELL!” Sans screamed from inside his cage, breaking the silence that the scene had caused. He gripped at the bars, his voice strained from singing for so long. “DON’T! FELL!”

“Sans! I’ll be ok- AGH!” Fell cried out in pain as the robot suddenly shoved himself roughly into him.

 

 

Into his left socket.

 

 

Stars exploded in his vision at the appendage being roughly forced into the magic inside his skull. He choked out a gasp and gripped at the robot’s legs blindly, the pain making him seek support. “AH! AH-HH! STOP-!”

Oh god it hurt! He-he didn’t think he would do something like that! Oh god it was not meant to go there! Fuck, oh god!

He scratched at the hands wrapped about his skull, desperate to remove the length inside him.

“You’d better remember who you belong to, _darling_.” Mettaton tightened his grip and shoved himself in the rest of the way. After Fell’s scream died away into shaky wails, he spoke. His voice deep and dripping with dangerous promise, “And you’d better behave. Hahahaha! _Or I’ll cut your little slut in two_.” The sound of a chainsaw grinding against metal and the screams of his love made him return his shaking hands back to the other’s hips.

 

 

His breath came as terrible pants, on the verge of blood-curdling screams from the pain. It only got worse as Mettaton began to move, pulling himself out, only to roughly shove himself back in. Fell could barely keep himself from falling over. His hands and body shook, his phalanges digging into the metal on the others thighs.

Fell’s hp began to drop, the horrific actions being wrought upon him breaking through his defense. Magic seeped from the cracks in his old scar, the harsh pounding against the bone causing it to split. His shaking turned to spasms, feeling starting to disappear from his bones. The only thing he could feel was pain. Mind-wrenching, atrocious, horrendous pain.

 

 

His consciousness wavered as the robot continued to thrust into him, magic spilling from his wound to form a slick lubricant for his metal cock.

Blessedly, his vision went dark, his mind finally releasing him from the horrors of this moment.

 

The last thing he heard was Sans’ scream.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you all thought you knew where I was going with this.  
> *smug grin*


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

"DON’T! FELL!" Sans cried, his hands gripping the bars bone-creakingly tight. Tears streamed from his sockets, thankfully blurring the horrendous scene before him.

 

Though he could still hear Fell's screams.

 

 

Sans felt his soul clench in his chest as the audience cheered the robot on. Applauding the horrible, cruel, torturous act. He cried out with a wailing sob, wrenching at the bars. "FELL!" 

He was forced to watch as Mettaton rammed himself into his skull, the skeleton desperately trying to get away as he screeched in agony. Sans' soul was so distraught, he felt magic overflow into his throat. He got sick on the cage floor. He wanted to look away from what was happening, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the atrocity. "Fell..." He croaked against the bars, pain flaming in his own soul as red magic began to pour from the other's socket.

 

Still the robot did not give him mercy.

Sans sobbed against the bars, hating everything. Mettaton, the cheering crowd, …himself. Why couldn’t he do anything? He was always so helpless! Like… Like…

Like a kid.

 

 

Fell’s wails suddenly cut off abruptly. His eye rolled back into his skull, his mouth drooping in a whispered last cry before he crumpled to the ground at Mettaton’s feet.

Sans screamed with the full force of his soul as Fell lie unmoving. Mettaton walked over his body, nudging him with his foot. The robot looked up at the crowd and smiled. He picked up the mic he had dropped earlier, and brought it to his lips. “I gave you _real drama_! I gave you _real action_!”

He placed a boot to Fell’s skull, his eyes crazed and drunk off the crowd’s cheers.

“Now it’s time for _real_ _bloodshed._ ”

 

 

Magic coursed through his bones, lighting him afire with a power he had never thought possible. Blue magic coursed through him, blazing and beating in rhythm with his soul. He felt it pool into his palms, electric and untamed. A herald of misshapen bones flew out from his fingers towards the target of his hate.

 

Mettaton turned, his eyes going wide before the blue buckshot slammed into him. The robot staggered back from the blow, almost losing his balance on his high heels.

“KEEP AWAY FROM HIM!” Sans screamed. His breath felt ragged, his magic was unwieldy and inexperienced, it flashed from his soul in waves of static across his frame.

The robot eyed him with pure malice. “Oh ho ho! Look who decided to actually _do_ something! Here I thought you were just a pretty face, darling!” He swiped his tongue across his teeth. “ _Let’s fix that._ ” Rushing forward, Sans barely had time to gasp as the chainsaw was shoved through the bars of the cage.

 

He cried out in fear as the jaws buzzed right in front of his face, the only thing separating the spinning teeth was the bone he had managed to flash to life. Bright blue magic sparked and metal whined as they connected, the force of it making Sans shiver. His soul beat hard and fast under the strain. It really was starting to hurt.

Sans didn’t know what he was doing, but he did know that if he didn’t do _something_ both he and Fell would die.

 

 

He grit his teeth. He wasn’t about to let that happen.

 

 

 

With a huff, he pushed a wave of magic into the bone in his hands. It caused the attack to splinter into several bones, flying forth with a force strong enough to knock the robot and the chainsaw back. Mettaton screamed as he went flying back from the explosive magic attack, obviously Sans had landed a critical hit.

But he neither had the time not the care to celebrate. Gasping from the drain in magic, he quickly ran forward to the bars and willed another bone into existence. Breathing heavy, he forced the attack to manifest lengthwise between the bars, and cast it.

The bars groaned and moaned as the magic pushed the metal apart.

Already growing dizzy from the siphoning in his soul, he stopped the flow of blue just enough. Good thing he was small. He squeezed himself through the bars and plopped onto the stage, his legs shaky.

 

A roaring engine made him jump back with a startle yell as Mettaton limped forward, his chainsaw at the ready. His hair stuck to his face in sweaty stands, his chassis was splintered and damaged, one of his arms a shredded mess. He looked terrible. “ _YOU. BITCH.”_

Sans yelped as he threw himself to the side, just before the screaming machine crashed into the stage, making mulch of the hardwood. Panting and sweating, Sans rolled out of harm’s way yet again as Mettaton followed him across the stage.

 

But he couldn’t run forever.

 

 

Sans tried to pull himself out of his roll, when his skimpy outfit snagged on a nail. Not expecting the tug to his frame, he fell back on himself onto the floor. His eyes widened as Mettaton raised the chainsaw above his head, laughing with a crazed look to his eye. “AND NOW FOR THE GRAND FINALE-!”

The terrible sound of metal screeching, and a horrifying crackle made Sans’ breath catch in his throat.

 

Mettaton dropped the chainsaw, its roar whining down into a whimper as it quieted. The marrow in his bones churned in horror at the red bone stabbing through the monster’s middle…

 

Straight through his soul.

 

Blinking in realization, he turned to the crowd one last time as he began to collapse into dust, “Shows over, darlings... You’ve been a wonderful audience.”

The crowd cheered, hailing the end of the T.V. host’s greatest hit.

 

 

Sans shivered and cried. Conflicting feelings of hate for the crowd, happiness from revenge for his love, and guilt for feeling such awful things washing over his already tired soul.

 

When warm arms wrapped around him, he willing turned into the embrace and sobbed.

 

 

“its ok, bro. you’re safe.”

Sniffling, Sans looked up to see Papyrus looking down at him with tired, worried sockets. “Papy?”

“yeah, bro. its me.” He looked over to the stage, and Sans followed his gaze to see where Red was crouched over Fell. “we should get you home-“

“FELL!” He cried, and tried to pull himself away, but Papyrus held him tight.

“Sans…”

 

Sans did not heed him. He wriggled out of Papyrus grasp, and sprinted over to the stage on his wobbly legs.

As he got closer, he could see the tears in his alternate self’s eyes. He sat on the floor next to Fell, cradling his skull in his lap. Either not hearing Sans’ approach, or not caring, he leaned in to hug his battered skull. “i love ya…bro.”  

He stayed like that for what felt like years to Sans. He shifted anxiously, his soul crying out to be with Fell.

Red cast his red eyes up to hold his blue, the two Sanses were night and day, but they both felt love for the skeleton between them. Red sighed, and gently moved Fell’s skull from his lap. He got up and looked at Sans with an unreadable expression before he passed by him to go to Papyrus. No mean words, no harsh joke…he just left.

 

 

He would have time to ponder that later.

 

Falling to his knees beside the still skeleton, he wrapped his arms around him tightly. For the briefest moment, he panicked at the stillness within the other’s chest. Until he felt the gentle, soft tug of Fell’s weakly beating soul.

He let himself cry tears of joy. “Fell…” He choked, and kissed his forehead. Over and over, he clanked him with kisses, never wanting to be apart. Never wanting to feel that he wasn’t good enough for Fell. Never wanting to doubt his love for him. Never wanting to turn away from him again.

 

 

“Sans…?” A whisper made him stop.

He looked into the other’s face, glad to see his lover’s groggy, red eye burn into existence. Taking a moment to come to, he focused on Sans. A hand lighted on his face, and wiped the tears from his cheek.

“Sans?”

“Yeah, Fell?”

 

 

“I love you.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit late to the party, huh? 
> 
> Better hurry...

 

 

Geez, that was always weird.

 

Papyrus got out a cig from his pack and lit it up, letting the routine help bring him down from the dizzying churn in his soul from the transport to Underfell. The teleportation magic worked well, he supposed, but it was a lot rougher than his own magic. Nyeh heh, Red was pretty good with machines, he had to admit. Papyrus probably wouldn’t have been able to get that old pile of junk in the back fixed up if he hadn’t helped lend a hand.

How weird is it that an alternate version of his brother from another universe helped him fix his machine so he could go to his universe?

There had to be some kind of time-space rule for that ridiculous loop in logic…but whatever. Red helped him get it fixed, and now the two universes were able to mingle.

 

He shivered as he released a puff of smoke. He hated coming to Underfell. And while he’d only been here briefly, he had seen enough and heard enough to know it was an awful fucking place. Just as he remembered it: dark, dreary, and silent. Everything about it seemed to cry out _danger_.

 

A shaky hand reached in his hoodie pocket, digging around.

He looked down to see that Red was the culprit. Sweat was all but pouring off his skull as he shook with nervousness, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing Papyrus giving him a questioning look, he yanked out the pack of cigs and lighter. “i need a smoke, ok?” He snapped up at him, fingers barely able to pull out a stick, but he finally got it out and balanced it in his teeth. “heh heh…” The smaller skeleton chuckled, eyes darting about the surrounding woods. “we got an audience. heh heh heh.”

Papyrus looked at the scraggly trees, squinting to see into their dark depths. He didn’t see anything…

Red struggled with the lighter, his hands too shaky to flick the light.

 

God, it was hard to watch.

Papyrus took it from him and lit him up.

 

“th-thanks, Pap.” He grinned up at him as he took a long drag. For a second, he seemed to relax…until his eyes went wide at a point behind Papyrus.

Papyrus suddenly felt weightless and his feet lifted up off the ground. His soul shone brightly in his chest as it was thrown to the side, his body following suit. “what the hell, Red?!” Papyrus yelled as he was sent flying by the other’s magic. He just barely kept himself from staggering to the ground in a heap. He had dropped his cig though. Shit.

 

The loud crash of magic smashing into the ground made him whip his head around to where he had once stood. Smoke and steam from the disturbed snow curled up from the spot, deadly and foreboding. Where had that come from? Eyes darting around the wood, he couldn’t see or hear anyone.

Roaring, Red let red magic erupt into his palm. “c-curious bastard ought to _mind their own goddamn business!_ ” The skeleton stood his ground, his eyes burning with effervescent magic, warning away any possible threats. “if ya don’t back the fuck off, chump, i’ll _end ya_!”

Nothing moved.

Nothing stirred.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Red straightened from his stance, and brought his cigarette back to his teeth. “heh heh, that’s what i thought, cunt. c’mon, Pap.” Taking a long drag, he grabbed Papyrus by the hand and tugged. “just keep close.”

 

 

Papyrus really was in a different world.

While Papyrus was a strong monster, he was not used to the cloak and dagger of this place. He hadn’t been raised to read the subtle cues of its inhabitants. As they started to walk from the center of Snowdin towards the Underfell brother’s house, he thought he caught sight of a flash of red.

But he wasn’t sure. Maybe Red’s nerves were getting to him?

 

 

Papyrus watched him as he pulled him along. He was on high alert, his eyes darting around, flinching at the slightest noise. Papyrus was afraid to speak, afraid to do more than let Red tug him along. He felt like if he did anything surprising, the guy might break apart in shock. This had been a bad idea coming here.

“something ain’t right, Pap.” Red spoke, too focused on his anxious scanning to look back.

Papyrus laughed humorlessly. That was putting it lightly. “well, yeah. this isn’t exactly normal-”

“no.” Red interrupted, his voice dropping into a low growl. “you don’t understand. someone _attacked_ us.”

Blinking in confusion, he gripped his hand tighter. “monsters are always fighting here, you said it yourself.”

 

“not me.” Red halted when his old house came into view. He released an unsteady breath, his magic-warmed breath sending a small puff into the air. “no, they don’t attack me. they just mess with me…because of…because of boss.”

Papyrus placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease away the shaking that wracked his small frame.

“you know what happened to the last guy that tried to fuck with me?” He laughed, the sound grating and cruel. “heh heh, boss got himself a new pair of gloves that day. and, well, he _did_ try to tell that minotaur he wasn’t _bullshitting_! heh heh heh!”

His nasal aperture scrunched in disgust and horror. But there was more to worry about than something so sick and twisted right now. “Red…are you alright?” The shakes from the small skeleton had died down quickly. Very quickly.

It was a little unnerving how fast he had calmed.

 

“heh. no, i’m not Pap.” Red finally turned around to face him, his sockets glazed. His skull was a mask made up of a terrible grin. He looked a lot like the monster he’d first met in Underswap. “ya see, here’s the thing… the only time anyone tried to lay a finger on me is ‘cause they thought _boss was dead._ ”

Papyrus’ marrow chilled in his bones.

Red held his gaze, not once breaking from his too-jolly guise. “do ya get what i’m saying, Pap?”

 

 

Red suddenly stiffened. Burning eyes whipped around to look behind them.

Papyrus looked up to see what had caused him to react so vehemently, and jumped.

 

They had been followed.

 

 

A red monster with painfully splintered and broken horns, magic still caked to the sides from a previous wound, smirked at them.

Placing himself in front of Papyrus, Red hissed at the monster in rage. “the fuck do ya want? i thought i told ya to _back off_!”

Papyrus blinked in surprise as Red attacked, loosing a hail of bones at the monster.

 

The creature was thin and swift, dodging the attacks with practiced ease, its jacket billowing out from its lithe frame as it moved. Bones shot from the ground with angry groaning and creaking as rock and earth scraped against their shafts. Red screamed in anger, his hand flashing angrily out in front of him as he summoned attack after attack.

 

 

This place was hell.

 

 

How had any of this even happened? What was Red trying to say earlier? He didn’t mean that-

A blast of magic roared towards them, bright yellow shafts of light breaking through the cold air.

Papyrus snapped out of his thoughts. He would think later.

 

He summoned a wall of bones, the light magic snapping and crackling against the shield.

Red turned to Papyrus, his eyes darting about his frame. “Pap, are ya ok?!”

Fuck, he was worried as shit. Pap smiled at him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “yeah, I’m fine, Red. let me help you-”

“ya could’ve been hurt…” He gripped onto his sweater, as if to make sure he was still there. Big, red eyes looked up at him, full of worry. Papyrus swore he saw tears in his sockets, but if there had been any, he certainly didn’t show them.

Releasing Papyrus, he turned about, hunched and ready to fight. Magic burned from his sockets, so strong and miserably electric, Papyrus thought he could feel it lick at his bones. Red flipped his shit as he cried out with terrible malice and rage, “ _ya bastard i’m going to rip your guts out of your fucking asshole!_ ” Without another thought, Red rushed from out behind Papyrus’ wall of bones.

 

“Red! stop!” He raced after the small skeleton, but he was surprisingly fast when he wanted to be.

 

 

Bones flashed and light attacks smashed as the monsters dueled. A screeching roar made Papyrus’ eyes widen as an abominable malformation of magic was brought kicking and screaming into existence.

A blaster.

Red laughed with sharp, maniacal insanity as he raised a damning hand, prepared to eviscerate the monster before him.

 

 

Papyrus couldn’t let this happen.

He couldn’t stomach to see Red like this.

 

 

Sprinting forward, he knocked Red’s hand off to the side, causing the blaster to send its burst of magic roaring into the nearby woods. The scraggly trees splintered and burst from the heat, the sound a cacophony of shrieks as they were torn from existence in a flash of light.

The other monster had just barely escaped death. They lie in the snow, their eyes wide with fear at the display of power.

Red panted heavily in his grasp, his voice a rasping growl. “why the fuck did ya do that?” And as he turned to look up at him, Papyrus felt sick to his marrow. Pure bloodlust held his gaze. That same cruelty and hatred that he had seen when he first came to Underswap sparked in his sockets like wildfire.

 

It hurt seeing him like that.

 

 

Swallowing hard, Papyrus choked, “you’re better than this, Red.”

 

Red flinched at his words, the primal hostility slowly fading from his features. In its place, an awful guilt that made Papyrus wince.

He pulled him into an embrace, letting the other bury his face in his middle.

Papyrus glared at the red monster with the mangled horns. It tried to get up and sneak away to lick its wounds and live another day…

But he wasn’t going to have Red go through all that bullshit for nothing.

 

 

Grabbing hold of the monster’s soul he pinned him to the spot.

The monster whipped its head up to look at him, its strange eyes filled with fear.

“you’re not going anywhere, pal. we got a few questions for you. don’t we, Red?”

Red sniffed and looked over his shoulder at the monster. “yeah.” He croaked, tired from both the fight and the emotional tailspin he’d been subjected to. “you do the talking, Pap. i’m _shot_. heh heh…” The joke was bad and it didn’t really make either of them laugh. But Papyrus gripped him tighter, giving a small squeeze to his shoulder in support.

“ok, dumbass,” Papyrus fixed the monster with an orange, burning eye. A small promise that, yeah, he could use magic too. “what the fuck is going on?”

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

"I love you."

 

 

Sans pulled Fell into a close embrace. The other sighed against his cheek in relief, his lanky appendages moving to hold him.

 

Before, it had been hard for Fell to say those words. But Sans knew it was what he wanted to say, for every time it was practically visible on the tip of his tongue. 

When he held Sans after a long day away. When he kissed him softly. When he came home to find Sans making dinner for him. When Sans told him an exciting story, or read to him, or just simply sat in his company...

Fell would flounder and fluster, his eyes betraying what his voice could not. He was slow to trust, and even slower to show emotions. 

 

But right here, right now...

He had finally said it.

 

Fell said he loved him.

 

 

Soul beating against his ribs he held him tighter. As he turned to clank him on the cheek he stopped. Pulling away, he looked over his love with a painful stab to his soul. The left side of his skull was painfully crackled, oozing red magic and-

He swallowed back a gag for Fell's sake. Oh, he wasn't even going to think of what all else was muddled on his skull! He had sacrificed his well-being for him, he'd gotten hurt for him. Sans felt a terrible guilt weigh on his soul. If he hadn't left the house, if he had been stronger, if he had been a better fighter then none of this would have happened!

Sighing, he reached behind his neck and began to untie his beloved blue scarf. Taking it, he gently began to wipe away the grime from the wound.

 

All the while, Fell watched him. He remained silent, neither flinching nor crying out from his actions. What lie behind his red gaze, Sans couldn't even begin to guess. He continued on, trying to be as tender as he could.

 

Sans smiled warmly at him once he was finished. While it wasn't the best, and he'd need to thoroughly wash later...it was enough for now. "It looks a little better. Here," He placed his hands to both sides of Fell's skull, careful to not touch the cracks. "Let me look at it." While the wound made him nauseous, he turned his head so he could better look at it. He pursed his mouth, before he swallowed. "W-we'll need to clean it when we get home. And you'll need a bandage-"

 

 

His sentence was cut off as he was brought into a kiss. 

Sans felt his soul soar in his chest. He wanted to stay like that forever, with Fell's arms wrapped tightly about him. Their souls mingled teasingly, magic pulling lightly at their closeness, begging for them to be closer. He broke from the kiss to touch his forehead to Fell’s, just letting himself take in his presence.

He had almost lost him. Choking, he tried to stifle back a sob as tears fell from his sockets. Oh, god, he could have lost him. Soul beating horrendously in his chest, he ran a thumb across his cheek, lavishing in the other’s sigh.

 

“Don’t leave me again, Fell.”

 

Fell’s socket went wide, before he looked away. “Sans, I’m-“

 

 

"HEY!"

They broke apart as a rather loud fight broke out in the crowd, monsters yelling and screaming.

 

Sans had forgotten where they were.

His eyes scanned the crowd. They had grown restless after the ordeal with Mettaton. Some had left, but the majority bickered amongst themselves, drunk off of the excitement and alcohol. It was quickly becoming a mob.

 

Red and Papy could barely be heard over the racket. They yelled at the monsters that got too close, and occasionally cast off a bone or two in warning.

Papyrus yelled over his shoulder at Sans, but he wasn't able to hear him. He looked worried.

 

 

The body he leaned against shifted. He gasped as Fell picked himself off the stage. "Fell, wait! Don't get up yet!"

But he didn't listen. His voice lowered into a rumbling whisper at his skull, and Sans shivered at the urgency of the sound. "We need to leave, Sans."

Huffing, he stood and grasped Sans' shoulder. The small skeleton helped him up, letting him drape his arm about his shoulders for support. While he was bigger than Sans, he wasn't about to let him fall.

Fell's uninjured eye focused on the crowd, and being so close, Sans could feel his soul flutter with anxiety.

 

Following his gaze, his soul froze in his chest. A group of monsters was stalking towards them through the crowd, seemingly with an agenda in mind.

 

 

 

"fuck off, assholes!" A familiar, snide voice snarled out above the racket. Red hunched into a combat stance, his magic burning upon his palms with deadly intent.

At his outburst, other monsters looked up to see what all was happening. A shift seemed to occur in the blink of an eye. As if a beast had been awakened, the crowd seemed to rouse, the shiver of excitement coming to fruition and billowing out in waves. Whispered murmurs and laughs sprouted throughout as they came to sudden realization.

 

They knew that their numbers outweighed them drastically.

 

 

The hand that rested on Sans’ shoulder tightened.

 

“things are getting out of hand.”

Sans turned his head to see Papyrus suddenly standing beside him, fixated on the crowd. A cigarette trailed its smoke from his mouth, but Sans was too nervous to say anything. He swallowed hard as the mob pressed closer.

Red loosed a few bones at their feet, but they did not seem to care.

The air felt electric. Individual wants and desires disappearing, melding together to form a single blood-starved hive-mind.

 

All eyes were on them.

 

 

“bro.”

Sans swallowed hard, and grasped at Fell’s hand on his shoulder for comfort as he looked back up to his brother.

“you guys stick together, ok?” Sans nodded quickly, gripping his lover’s hand tightly. He didn’t like the way Papy sounded.

His brother locked eyes with Fell, the two alternates holding each other’s stare. “this is going to get bad.” Papyrus broke away from the heated exchange as he took his cigarette from his teeth. He loosed the smoke through his nasal aperture, whisps curling about his skull as he regarded them carefully. “neither of you are in any shape to fight. Fell, you know your way out of here?”

Fell grunted in response, and Sans yelped as he was picked up. His lover pulled him into his arms with a wince, but seemed able to keep his balance. Before Sans could figure out what was going on, he began to stride away, his steps hurried.

Eyes going wide as he realized Papyrus wasn’t following them, he squirmed in Fell’s grasp to try and go back. “Wait! Papy!” He called out to his brother, suddenly feeling afraid. “Let me go, Fell!”

Papyrus yelled to him with a smile. “we’ll be ok, bro! we’ll meet up with you guys later!” He shrugged and winked. “nyeh heh, we know a shortcut.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Papyrus sighed in relief as the two skeletons disappeared behind the curtain.

Sans might not understand what was happening, but Fell knew. He was thankful that the alternate version of himself listened to him. Papyrus knew that Sans wouldn’t have left him behind willingly. And while it hurt sending his bro away like that, Sans had been low in magic from the spat with Mettaton.

Nyeh heh…you know, he was thankful that jackass version of himself was already low in hp. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have taken Sans to safety. That bloodthirsty fucker probably would have wanted to stay and fight.

Worked out in the end, he guessed.

 

Unlike his brother, Red knew how to pick his fights.

Right now he was all but screaming at the crowd, trying to keep them from advancing. It was a stalemate, the mob was testing the waters, trying to see what he was made of. Papyrus knew that it was only a matter of time before the tension broke, and he knew Red knew this too. He didn’t dare let the first stone fly, knowing that the bubble of excitement would not only pop but explode.

He took his place beside Red, and dropped his spent cig onto the ground, snuffing it with the sole of his shoe.

Red flicked his eyes over to Pap before returning to the mob. “are they…?”

Papyrus cast a lazy eye over the crowd, picking out which monsters had the highest hp. Picking out the ones with the highest attack. “yeah, they're alright. i told them to scat.”

Red sighed but did not relax.

 

After all, they still had to give them time to escape.

Hopefully, they could sit here and wait the crowd out and then shortcut their way to safe-

 

 

 

Papyrus felt his soul leap into his throat as a bottle of flaming booze was tossed from the crowd, its fiery cloth tail whipping as it flew.

 

Grabbing Red, he threw them out of the way as it landed on the stage with a shatter, a sea of fire licking out from the spilled alcohol.

 

Red shot out of his grasp and conjured up red bones to deflect incoming bottles, shards of glass raining down as they broke across the shield.

 

 

Papyrus pressed close to Red. The smaller skeleton was quick to take up his offered protection.

“h-hey, Papyrus…?”

“yeah, Red?”

“heh heh, _tibia_ honest…i, uh…i don’t know how this is gonna go down.”

Papyrus tried to keep strong for him, but, he’d be lying if he said he knew they would be fine. “i’m not going to _fibula_ ‘cause I don't know either.” 

 

Monsters of various sizes and shapes began to hoist themselves onto the stage, egged on by the rush of the mob.

 

 

He swallowed down his fear, and briefly grasped Red’s hand in his own to give it a small squeeze. 

"but i will say that i’ve got your back.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWWW YEAH


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

Red eased his back against Papyrus’ own.  Monsters were taking over the stage, many of them weak, but there were a few they’d have to be careful of. The crowd screeched and whined, a multitude of jaws slathering from the scent of blood and sex on the stage.

They were all practically feral.

 

 

God, he wished they could've all just used a motherfucking shortcut. 

Magic was shareable, though not so much transferable as it was displaced through contact. Souls could bind to one another through the physical connection of their bodies and their magic could come to an equilibrious state amongst the monsters involved. It wasn't a common feat, and it took a certain amount of compatibility for it to work, but it could be done. 

Red knew from past experience that he and Fell were incompatible (as if it weren't already obvious). They could neither share magic nor use it to heal one another. And, honestly, he didn't want to share magic with his brother anyways. Which was exactly the kind of reason they couldn't share to begin with.

Neither wanted to fucking cooperate with the other.

 

 

 

But with Sans and Papyrus...

 

He squeezed the hand in his grip tight. "Pap, couldn't you have gotten Sans out of here?"

 

Papyrus was silent. 

 

Red took a chance to look at him and felt his soul drop in his chest. 

 

Warm, gentle sockets watched him, taking a quick chance to lock eyes with him before they both broke apart to face the looming threat. "yeah, i could've..." The hand about his own squeezed back.  "but i know you wouldn't have left your bro behind. you love him, and i don't blame you for what you did to…uh, the robot guy."

 

 

He growled in his throat at the memory of seeing Mettaton fucking pile driving Fell through the socket, goddamn cumming inside his tortured skull. His breath felt like it was ragged with his anger, threatening to turn him into a foaming mess like the rest of the mob. Fell was an ass. Fell was a huge jackass of a cunt that was the fucking best at shitting all over his good mood. But he didn't deserve what was done to him. God, when they first got to the theatre... His phalanges had itched with the need to call his blasters, to utterly obliterate the filth that dared to laugh at his brother’s suffering.

 

He had never felt so mad in his whole fucking life.

And if Sans hadn’t been in danger when they first got here he would have taken his sweet time with that motherfucking son of a bitch, Mettaton.

 

But at least that bastard was dust.

 

He hid a cruel grin from Papyrus, knowing it would only upset him. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t deny it. He wasn’t like Papyrus and Sans. He didn’t see any fucking reason in preserving the pieces of shit that inhabited this world. And he knew damn well that not everyone had good in them like they seemed to be so fond of saying.

 

 

 

Monsters stalked around the edge of their reach, watching with cautious hunger. Fights broke out here and there as the gathered creatures fought for dominance.

The strong were the ones that defied the two skeletons. They were curious of their strength, of how it was they thought they could keep them at bay. 

 

First it was one, one lone monster that rushed forward, screeching and foolishly full of themselves.

Red was quick to dispatch him with a flashing bone to the side of his head. The beast went crashing away, falling into unconsciousness. 

But where there was one, there was more. The masses surged back into action, monsters regaining their courage to pounce on the "easy" targets on the stage.

 

Papyrus called forth a slew of bones, the magic whistling out into the crowd, accompanied by yelps and cries of pain. “here they come, Red!” He pressed closer to him, as the mob barreled towards them.

 

Red let the magic on his phalanges spring to life, red bones shooting up from the ground like great stalagmites, knocking monsters away and sending others toppling from their broken tips. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a large demon-like creature sprinting towards them, brandishing a chair.

 

 

Grabbing his companion’s soul, he tossed Papyrus out of the way. He threw himself to the side, just in time too, as the monster brought the chair crashing into the floor, the furniture reduced to a mass of splintered remains.

Blinking from the initial shock, Papyrus was quick to recover. Orange bones crashed from the stage, blocking an incoming blast of magic from another enemy. The shield of bones barely held out, large cracks exploding down their length. Barely flinching from the shock, he sent another attack flying forward, smacking the demon that tried to smash them square in the face. The beast cried out and gripped at his face, dark magic dripping from his head to blind his eyes.

 

Taking the advantage, Red whipped a bone up under the monster’s feet, sending him falling backwards and making him down for the count.

 

Soul pounding in his chest, sweat dripping from his skull, he tried to control himself. Was he afraid for himself? Hell, yeah! But he knew he could probably scrape by. He always had been good at bullshitting his way out of bad situations. 

Checking over his shoulder, he saw Papyrus dispatch his adversaries, knocking them back, pushing them aside, throwing them out of the way. He was careful, he was precise, he could be a truly deadly opponent. But he...well, he wasn't used to this backstabbing, underhanded, dirty fighting. He was too noble, too forgiving, too soft. Red was worried about him. He was worried he would look over to find nothing but dust.

Papyrus was too merciful for a place so merciless.

 

Papyrus loosed a large bone, sending it whirling through the crowd like some bizarre boomerang, wiping the feet out from under a good dozen or two. “nyeh heh heh! have a nice _trip_ ,” A shit-eating grin crossed his skull as he looked out over the tangled mass of fallen monsters.  “see you next _fall_!”

 

Red felt his soul thump loudly in his chest. Just…just wow. He smiled himself, letting Papyrus’ natural calm sweep over him. He was soft, but, god, he was so fucking cool.

Spying Red’s stunned and surely amazed expression, he smirked in that arrogant way of his, flashing him a wink. 

Fuck, he wondered if they had given Fell and Sans enough time. He was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to-

 

 

His lover’s grin suddenly fell into a shocked grimace and Red felt his marrow grow cold. He whirled around and flashed up a bone, just as a dragon-like creature smashed into him. Being smaller, he let his opponent’s weight slide off the bone as he ducked beneath, launching into a roll between their legs. Rising to his feet, he released a silent cry as he was shoved roughly from behind.

 

Flying forward, he tumbled end over end across the stage, his skull swimming with vertigo as he came to a stop. The dragon creature had recovered fast, and from the look of their lv they knew more than a thing or two about combat. Gasping, he blinked himself from existence, reappearing just behind the monster.

 

 

A sharp-clawed hand grasped him about the throat as he reappeared, taking him at his most vulnerable. He choked and gagged, scratching at the tough scales with panic.

The dragon held him with piercing serpentine eyes as he hissed at Red, his voice a strange mixture of hate and sadness, “You’re fucking brother killed mine.”

 

Oh shit. Oh shit! _Oh shit!_ Where the hell was Papyrus?! His eyes scanned the rumbling monsters, Papyrus lost amongst the brawling, crawling, buzzing masses. He struggled harder as the hand tightened. Oh fuck! Oh _fuck_ he was so dead!

“Kin for kin should be fair…” The dragon sniffed, his nose scrunching in disgust as smoke trailed from his nostrils. “Though he was a better monster than you, runt.”

Papyrus was nowhere to be seen. He was fucking dead. Heh, well, if he was going to go out like this, he was going to go out a shithead. He grinned at the beast, and laughed, “heh heh, who isn’t? now, ya gonna kill me or keep _dragon_ this out? heh heh heh!”

The dragon roared and shook him roughly, making Red’s hp fracture. He gasped, trying to keep his soul from falling apart from the attack. "heh, ugh-heh, did I upset ya? y-you seem a little _shook_ up! heh." If he could just hold out. Just long enough that maybe, just maybe, Papyrus-

 

 

“Red!” Papyrus hollered out from across the stage, his frame vanishing in a slight crackle of orange before he zapped into existence a few feet away. Orange magic swirled from his socket like a trail of colorful smoke, wafting with his anger.

The calm had lifted, now here came the storm.

“put him down, fucker!”

 

The dragon raised a brow to him, looking over him with confusion. “Papyrus?”

“not the one you know, pal.” He growled. “i’m not going to warn you again, drop the bonehead, _now_.”

Distracted by the dilemma of “is this Papyrus or not?” Red took advantage of the opportunity. Playing dirty, he swung his body abruptly, his legs being just long enough to catch the other monster in the junk. Roaring in pain, his grip loosened, and Red forced his way free.

He bolted to Papyrus’ side, and together they stood at the ready. They dodged and parried incoming blasts of magic from the crowd.

They were holding out well, but they were being overrun.

 

 

The dragon would not leave them be. He stormed forward, knocking aside weaker monsters with reckless abandon. Smoke billowed from his jaws, the look in his eyes a menacing glint bordering on pure insanity. His stare locked on one monster out of all the others: Papyrus, determined to take his revenge upon whom he thought to be his brother’s murderer.

 

Papyrus could have killed him. He had a perfect opening. He could have shot out a bone, stabbed the monster straight through his vile soul…but he didn’t. Flashing up a bone, he knocked the dragon under his jaw, spittle and chips of teeth spewing onto the stage from the impact.

“get out of here, scumbag!” He growled, another attack waiting and ready to dispatch the monster.

 

 

Red made to grab the dragon’s soul, but he was quickly brought back into the fray as a monster challenged him. A wolf-creature bounded towards him, magic on his paws.

Shit! He wanted to be near Papyrus, even though he had proven that he could handle himself. Red felt weaker without him nearby. Anxiety began to crawl up his spine and buzz in his skull. Shaking hands conjured up a bone as the wolf made to slash him with his emblazoned claws. The screech of claws against bone made him wince.  With a flick of Red’s wrist, he sent another bone crashing up through the floor to hit the monster right where the sun don’t shine.

The wolf howled and collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony.

“heh, that’s what you get for being a _dick_ -“

 

 

“gah!”

Red spun around as Papyrus cried out in pain. The dragon had lodged his sharp teeth into the crook of Papyrus’ neck and shoulder. 

“Pap!” Red screamed, loosing a slew of bones, stabbing into the beast and making him release his victim from his jaws. Red grabbed hold of his soul and with a massive cry, threw him as far as he could. The creature slammed against the far wall, and disappeared from his view as he fell.

He turned back to see Papyrus falter and fall to a knee from the initial shock, and Red was quick to come to his aide.

“Pap, are ya ok?”

Papyrus blinked out of his shock, and focused on Red. “y-yeah, i’m fine.” While he did a good job of putting up a front for him, Red knew he was in great pain. His hoodie torn and slouching on his frame as bright orange magic shimmered upon his collar, squelching between the phalanges grasping at his wound. Letting Papyrus lean on him, he flashed up a barricade of bones around them.

Red shook as he looked at Papyrus, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Papyrus grit his teeth against the ache, and said something to Sans. He felt like he was far away, he heard his voice, but he couldn't make out the words.

 

Orange glistened upon his hoodie, staining it, making it shine with slickness.

 

It dripped from the wound to fall at their feet, small drips of honey-like liquid spilling on the floor.

 

A hand lighted on his shoulder and squeezed gently, and he was brought back from his daze.

Whipping around out of the small touch, he screeched, _"i’ll fucking kill all of you!”_ He poured his magic into his barricade of bones. They hummed bright red as his magic built, crackling and shivering. He released the tension and they splintered into smaller bones that exploded out to barrage the crowd.

 

 

The sight of his red magic was dulled with the dust that flew into the air. It drifted down like dark snow, clinging onto his jacket and settling upon his skull.

Dust was nothing new to him. He had seen it many times before. Reset after reset, he had seen more spilled magic and billowing dust than any monster had any right to see. He might as well be the grim reaper himself, clad in black.

You could say he was used to it by now.

Red was a monster, through and through. And Underfell was a terrible place, and it raised terrible monsters.

And he was no exception.

 

 

As the duest fell, his lv went up, the surge of strength sickening and delightful at the same time. Oh, it’d been a long time since he’d felt this way. It’d been a long time since he’d gained such power. It was unbelievably potent, coursing through his marrow like some kind of sick drug.

Red felt himself tip over the edge, succumbing to the high. The incredible excitement that shot through him as he gave in was like lightning in his bones, the smell of fear and blood around him enough to make him drunk.

 

He laughed, feeling himself slip back into his old skin, so to speak. A wide grin seemed to break his skull, as he let himself sink into the blood lust.

The other monsters were just as intoxicated by the smell as he was. They became bold once more, seeing an easy opportunity to gain lv from the weakened monster behind Red.

Which was a huge fucking mistake on their part.

A large bone manifested before him to block an oncoming punch, the owner of said hand gazing at him in shock…before he let magic spill into the bone. It splintered into smaller shards, casting forward in a wide shotgun spread, taking out the four that dared to get close to him.

They fell before him with choked and gurgled cries, and he moved on.

 

 

He was small and lazy, but he was hella fast when he needed to be. Grasping a particularly large monster’s soul, he used his bulk to smash him into his companions, knocking them aside and off the stage. _“exit, stage left!”_ He cackled, as he turned on his heel, his sneakers squeaking loudly on the hardwood.

 

 

Vision clouded with red, he could feel every beat of his soul, every breath through his teeth, every movement of his jacket on his bones. He was lost.

He was lost in a sea of passion. A dark, terrible, murderous passion.

 

_“heh heh heh!”_ Thrusting an attack forward, he felt his soul burn from the drain of magic, a pain that only egged him on, that only fueled his need for more.

 

Monsters fled before him, his red eyes burning in his sockets, his mad laughter enough to make the fearless question.

 

 

“Red.”

 

 

The skeleton turned to the sound of his name. Soul thumping loudly, magic coursing through his bones, he beheld the last monster on the stage.

Through panting breaths, he held his gaze. Kind sockets, sleepy and soft, and full of worry watched him. “Red…please, stop.”

 

The way he said those words… It made his soul twist in his chest. 

He needed to stop. He needed to come back down from this high.

His magic pounded against his skull, unwilling to stop, his sadistic side unwilling to give up its hold on this new dominance.

 

He was the strongest here now! He was to be feared, he was powerful!

No. No, he wasn’t. He was the weakest monster in the underground.

 

He was a loner! He didn’t need anyone. No one understood his pain. No one could ever understand what it was like to know so much, to be stuck in time and space!

Yes, someone did. Someone did understand. Someone that loved him dearly.

 

No one loved him.

Yes, someone did.

And he was walking right towards him.

 

 

Red hissed in warning, his magic crackling along his ribs. No one could touch him! He’d kill them first! Let them try! Let them try to hurt him! Let them try to…to…

 

Arms wrapped around him, an oversized sweater all but suffocating him in the embrace. The smell of smoke and honey wafted up to meet his nasal aperture, and Red felt his soul stop.

 

 

He collapsed into the warm embrace.

This was no one to fear.

This was no one to hate.

This was the one monster he trusted with his life.

 

“Pap, i’m sorry.” He choked into the familiar cloth, wishing he could disappear into it, wishing he could just be here in this comfortable embrace forever.

He was mean, he was cruel, he was a killer by design…and Papyrus should have known better than to try to fix him.

 

A bony hand cupped his cheek, a thumb kindly wiping away his tears. He looked up at the kind skeleton, searching for disgust, for hatred, for something other than the tender worry and love in his sockets. “it’s ok, Red…i’m here. i’m ok, you’re ok.” He shushed him, instead encouraging him to relax and cry into his sweater with awful, gross sobs. “it’s ok, Red.”

 

 

 

“c’mon, let’s go.”

Alone together on the stage, dust lie thickly on the floor. With no one left to fight, there was no reason to stay. Fell and Sans should be safe…hopefully.

“y-yeah.” He agreed. He hated this place. Wanting nothing more than to get back to Underswap and forget about this whole nightmare ever occurred.

In a final snapping of red and orange magic both skeletons were gone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. I took off the "Implied" to the Honeymustard because of obvious reasons.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love this chapter. It was a lot of fun to write.

 

 

Fell burst through the back stage door, and shut it closed quietly behind them. Sans sobbed against his shoulder, big fat tears falling from his sockets. “Fell!” He whined, “Please, take me back! Papy-“

“Will be fine.” He whispered, and brought him closer to his face. “Sans, you must try to be quiet. Some of them might try to come after us.” He watched every shadow, he left not a single corner or crook unsurveyed. He knew Papyrus and Red wouldn't be able to hold all of the crowd off. Some were bound to sniff them out.

 

 

The small skeleton sniffled, bringing Fell back to look at him as Sans buried his head into Fell’s scarf. “I want to go home, Fell.”

 

His soul wrenched at his words, the pain so much worse than any physical wound. He gulped the feeling down. This was no place for Sans. He should have known better. Look at what had happened! What had he been thinking?

 

But that was just it. He hadn’t been thinking.

He’d let himself slip into that beautiful blue gaze, into that kind smile, and lovely laugh.

 

 

Fell needed to distance himself.

For Sans’ sake.

 

"I'll take you home."

 

Grunting, he hefted Sans better into his arms, and took off down along the backside of the resort. He prowled with cat-like grace, easily blending into the dark. Round the back of the building, the dark gray stone allowed him to all but disappear, his breaths shallow and steady as he made his way to the River Person’s dock. Loosing a small sigh of relief when he spied the platform that led to the boat, he felt a little better knowing they were one step closer to getting back to the house.

 

 

“Fell!”

The skeleton whipped around at Sans' startled cry. He faltered back, narrowly missing a shaft of magic as it fizzled through the air. It crashed against the wall where he had been standing, the attack cracking the stone from the impact.

 

 

Magic danced along his phalanges, his favored long bone attack blazing to life. Fell brought himself into a defensive stance, weapon out before him to guard the small skeleton at his chest.

 

There, off the side of the building, a pair of glowing eyes watched him from the dark.

 

"GET BACK!" He bellowed in warning. "OR I'LL GUT YOU LIKE THE DOG YOU ARE!"

Sans shivered and gripped onto him tighter as more pairs of eyes joined the first.

"DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE DEALING WITH?" Fell shifted his weight, ready to spring at the first sign of assault. " _I SAID FUCK OFF_!" Casting magic into the long bone he sent it splintering out at the group of monsters.

 

A few cried in surprise, perhaps losing their nerve at the suddenly very real threat. Just because he was weakened didn't mean that he was any less dangerous. And they needed to be reminded of that.

 

 

Though he had sent some running, more seemed to flow in to take their place.

 

Sweat ran down his skull, stinging the cracks in his injured socket. His hp didn't leave a lot of wiggle room in regard to hits...

His grip tightened on the small skeleton in his arms. And Sans only had 1 hp.

 

 

He cast a quick glance to where the dock lie. It was a fairly long distance away, but if he was quick....

 

A loud snarling sound from the dark made up his mind.

 

 

Dashing forward, he used his long gait and lithe form to the best of their abilities. He sprinted close to the cave wall, holding Sans securely to his chest.

He was fast. He was incredibly fast.

 

They were nearly there within what must have been seconds, leaving the other monsters in the dust. His soul pounded in his chest, his breath fast and strained.

 

Almost.

 

Almost-

 

 

 

A large blast of magic from just behind propelled him forward, shooting him headlong ahead to nearly crash into a rocky outcrop. Sans cried out from the jarring blow, fearful as they went flying. Tucking into himself he protected the small skeleton in his arms, rolling end over end across the cold-packed ground.

His hp faltered fraction by fraction from the painful bumps and scratches. With a cry his grip loosened as his spine connected with a fallen log, his hp staggering from the painful hit.

Sans suddenly was gone from his arms, his grasp on him having been weakened.

 

 

Coming to a crashing stop against a tree, he ignored his painfully low hp. “SANS!” He screamed. The world was spinning, vertigo distorting land, sky, and monster into a sickening whirl. “SANS!” Where was he? Where was Sans?! Head swimming, he blindly scuttled to his feet and bolted. A magic attack smashing upon the earth where he had once been, an unseen enemy in hot pursuit.

 

Gaining his bearings, he leapt out of the way of another magic attack.

 

 

Out of the shadows, challengers appeared.

Monsters melted in, some fighting amongst themselves, others forming little co-ops. The Great Papyrus was a high level monster and his EXP was very, very appealing. More than enough to share, apparently.

 

Especially with him weakened.

 

This was bad.

He knew they were coming for him-

 

 

“Where is Fell!?”

Fell whipped around at the sound of the gentle skeleton, anger and fear thick in his voice.

Sans boldly growled at a group of monsters, all of which far higher level than him. “T-tell me where he is!” With a laugh, a lizard monster sent a magic attack whistling towards him, but Sans stood at the ready. He brought up his hands, blue magic beginning to form-

 

Fell dashed forward and grabbed him, tucking them into a roll out of the way. Throwing up a wall of bones, he turned to scream at Sans,

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

"I was trying to find you-“

"YOU SHOULD HAVE RAN TO THE BOAT!” Fell shook with his anger, socket blazing. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING FACING THEM OFF LIKE THAT?!”

Sans shrunk back from his rage, but soon gained his resolve. He puffed out his chest, and returned his glower. “I can help, Fell! I’m not a kid-“

“NO YOU CAN’T!” He conjured a wave of bones out from the wall, bashing any monsters curious enough to get close away. “YOU CAN’T HELP!”

Sockets narrowing, and blue eyes burning with a rare fury, Sans raised his voice to him, stern and serious. “Yes, I can! I’m strong! I can help fight! I have been training with the best of the best-“

 

Sans went on and on, seeming so full of hope. God, Fell wanted to let him help. He wanted to let him be the hero he wanted to be so badly.

But Sans just could not.

“Fell, please, you need me to help-”

 

“I cannot let you die, Sans.” 

 

Sans stiffened in surprise as Fell pulled him into a tight embrace. Barely a whisper, Fell tried one last time to make him understand, "What I need is for you to stay alive." He released Sans all too soon and stood, long bone flashing to life in his hand. The monsters were scraggling at the bone wall, testing its strength.

 

It wouldn’t hold out much longer.

 

“Run, Sans.” He cast the little monster a stoic glance, though his voice felt thick and betrayed his soul. “When the wall falls, run to the docks. I know it’s a stretch, but I’ll hold them off.” 

He held his breath, praying to whatever god or gods that came to mind. 

 

Sans could not die.

He was so full of hope, life, and love. It sounded cheesy, but that's what the little guy was. Sans was undeniably himself; despite what others said. Fell admired him so much and he knew the world truly would be so much worse without him and his charming grin, his sparkling eyes, and happy soul. 

And so much better off without Fell. This he already knew.

 

It was hardly a fair trade, but he would take it.

 

He needed Sans to understand. Needed him to see that he was so much better than Fell. He was a good monster, and one worth dying for any day. His soul ached at the thought of losing him. He couldn't let himself even imagine that wonderful soul extinguishing. 

 

 

But he couldn’t say no to Sans. He just couldn’t. He would try this one last time. He would plead...no, _beg_ him to leave, to live on and fulfill his dreams, to live happily in a better place, to be free of the horrors of Underfell. “Please, go.”

 

Cracks formed along the bones, monsters slathering and howling at the thought of so much easy EXP.

 

 

There was a flash of magic, and a bright blue glow upon the snow.

Fell sighed tiredly, looking over to see Sans, crouched and ready, blue magic whisping from his hands.

 

“I’m not letting you die for me, Fell.” He held Fell’s gaze, so sure of himself…so brave. So...fucking cool.

 

Fell’s soul pounded in his chest, warmth radiating forth to spill into his bones. Magic seemed to pool into his palms, giving him a well-needed boost of strength. Sans wasn’t going to back down, so neither was he. He would fight to the very last breath.

 

And, looking at Sans, he knew he would too.

 

Taking a steadying breath, he shattered the bone wall out, and prepared for battle.

 

 

The magic blasted outwards, spraying those that got too close with shards of bone. Dust kicked up into the air, EXP flowing forth to raise his hp by hints of a fraction. Sans was hesitant, gasping at the cloud that puffed out before them.

He had clearly never seen it before.

Grabbing Sans’ hand, he tore him from where he stood dazed. Pulling him to his chest, he got him out of the way of an oncoming attack. The smaller skeleton looked up at him, glazed sockets swimming in thought. “You can still run, Sans.” Fell said under his breath, sidestepping a spear of magic.

Sans’ eyes lit up at his movements, coming back into focus. Light sparked in their depths, determination radiating from his soul. “I won’t leave you.”

 

To Fell’s surprise, Sans flashed up a small bone, deflecting an oncoming punch.

Fell dispatched that same moronic monster with a harsh punch to the side of their face.

 

Sans leaned his weight into Fell, causing him to stagger back from a charged bolt that crackled where they once stood.

 

 

Raising a brow to Sans’ quick thinking, he grasped hold of his hand. With agile movements, he swifted them out of harm’s way yet again, the monsters that roared and howled after them left to slather.

Sans gripped onto his hand, following his movements, swinging his weight with practiced ease.

 

Had he fought before?

 

The way in which he moved, it was graceful and deliberate. Fell blinked in surprise as Sans grinned and cast magic forth into the crowd, his attacks hitting their mark with incredible precision. Cries of pain, and the scurry of flight the consequence of the small skeleton’s power. He was stronger than Fell had ever thought, could have ever imagined.

Sans breathed hard next to him, his soul beating loudly in his chest…

 

Or was that Fell’s soul?

 

Fell couldn’t tell. There was a beat, loud and overwhelming, a rhythm in the air that became infectious.

 

 

A wave of warmth crashed over him at the sight of Sans, casting magic with such ease. The bones were a bit shaky, a bit misshapen, but they were strong. Fell grinned wide, unable to keep the pureness of his pride from showing. He was so fucking proud of Sans. He was so strong! What potential he had!

It sparked such an amazing feeling of glee in him, reaching his very soul, and filling him with confidence.

The beat kept going, flowing between them, and he welcomed the warmth. The other’s soul mingling with his own in a dizzying flow of excitement.

 

 

Their enemies seemed to sense the power that beat between them. The horde pressed closer, ready to tear them apart.

With a laugh, Fell danced them out of reach of those that would kill them.

Twirling through the snow, Fell cast out a wave of bones, throwing handfuls of monsters into the surrounding cavern walls. Sans loosed a myriad of attacks, scattering out to impale monsters with their blunt tips. Howls of pain, and cries of fear flowed from their combined attacks, the two skeletons a perfect match.

 

Mirth bubbled up from his core, his soul beating in such wonderful tandem with that of his love. Sans tugged him along, taking the lead to swirl the both of them through the snow. Magic lighted on their fingers, their souls seeming to twine.

 

 

With a gasp, he felt a terrible tug on his soul, a pain as if he might just break…

 

And then…

And then…

 

 

He pulled Sans to his chest, dipping him into a foolhardy kiss.

He felt drunk.

He felt free.

Goddamnit he felt fucking amazing.

 

 

“Fell…your eye!” Sans looked up at him in shock, his eyes wide and…

Not blue. 

 

The monster that he held was Sans, though the magic that lie in his sockets was a shimmering, deep violet. Within those strange and familiar eyes was a steady, yet powerful gaze as he'd never seen before from the small skeleton.

 

Fell released him, nearly dropping him into the snow from surprise. With a grunt, he flashed up a bone to deflect an oncoming attack. “Sans, are you alright?”

 

Sans huffed, and shook his head, flushed with excitement. The strange violet magic faded, returning to his normal sky-blue.

 

The joy in Fell’s soul seemed to fall away, leaving him empty. It was a terrible, sinking feeling, as if being denied something he wanted dearly. What had that been? What could have caused such an amazing feeling? 

 

Had he felt Sans' soul?

 

 

The smaller skeleton brought him out of his thoughts, his voice thankfully stern and commanding. “Fell, take my hand.”

 

He took it without question, he trusted Sans with his life and soul. As their fingers touched, a great surge of power hit him like a ton of bricks, that same giddiness rising forth like a wave to crash over his soul.

 

Violet magic crackled along Sans’ bones, and his own. He could not take time to admire the effect, however.

 

They were still in the heat of battle.

 

 

“Ready, Fell?” Sans gripped his hand tight, determination shocking from his soul to Fell’s. 

 

He grinned, enamored with the feeling of being tied to his partner so. “As long as you are.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sans whipped his magic into the monsters, not caring about the drain he felt in his bones.

 

Fell was not going to sacrifice himself for him!

 

Sans loved him. They were in this together, and Sans would fight to his dying breath. He might be small, he might be kind, he might be a bit naïve, but he understood the gravity of the situation.

Sans was low in magic, Fell was low in health. They needed each other right now. He wasn’t going to abandon Fell.

 

His soul beat hard in his chest, his breath heavy as he cast more magic into the crowd. The beat of his soul hard and fast though strong…wait was that his soul?

 

 

Fell swept Sans off his feet as his lithe legs carried them away from oncoming attacks. Sans felt his soul hammer against his ribs, the way Fell moved…the way he sashayed across the ground. He almost seemed to float on his feet, so graceful. His hips seemed to guide them, swinging their weight into his movements.

 

Sans held his hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

 

It was like...a dance...the way that they moved. 

 

He shifted his weight, bringing Fell to him, and waltzed them along the floor. Magic crackled and sang past them, loud crashes against the cave walls, and sizzling snow kicking up puffs of steam around them.

 

Despite them being in the heat of battle, he felt such incredible ease. A great calm settled over his soul, he felt like everything would be ok. His magic seemed to swell in his bones, he felt strong. He felt safe in Fell’s arms, under that watchful gaze. A sharp-toothed smile broke upon the other’s skull, making his soul burn in Sans’ chest.

 

Like a catalyst set in motion, the soul of his love grabbed onto his own, their magic flaring out to twine with a great heat along his bones. His skull swam from the feeling. His breath caught in his throat, his head spun from the sensation. What was this? He felt so good.

 

Fell laughed above him, spinning them round the battle field, and dipped Sans into a kiss.

 

Sans felt as if his soul would burst as their teeth met, lightning shooting through his very being. He felt…stronger. There was no mistaking his hp rising, his magic going up. His skull swam and spun, an immense surge greeting him as his LV rocketed.

 

His eyes flashed open from the strange sensation of power, and he broke their kiss with a gasp. “Fell…your eye!” The normal red light of his socket was gone. Gone and replaced with shimmering violet magic, bright and beaming. Magic of that same off-color crackled along his bones, sparking between them.

It was beautiful and exciting, shifting and churning between them.

 

Fell dropped Sans into the snow, startled by the raw magic and Sans’ outburst. He snapped out of it quickly, flashing up a red bone to deflect an attack away. “Sans, are you alright?”

 

 

He was, but at the same time he wasn’t. Sans felt as if he were being torn apart as they parted. He craved to be close to him again. His soul felt empty in his chest as his hp dropped to 1, his magic died down, and his LV returned to its near non-existent state.

 

 

The monsters around them began to close in, sensing their weakness.

 

Fell looked shocked, his socket red once more, though seeming less bright than it had once been. His soul a low, shallow beat.

 

“Fell, take my hand.” Sans reached out to him, he needed him close, he needed to feel him. 

 

Fell studied him only a moment, and took his hand.

 

 

The power from before greeted him; he felt strong, he felt swift, he felt capable. He felt more confident in his abilities. Magic crackled on his fingers, itching to be used, obeying his whim as it never had before. These feelings threatened to overwhelm him as his LV gave him a feeling of invincibility. Though, he knew that was not the case. Calm quickly washed over him not long after the shock, letting him clear his mind. He needed to not get too deep into this feeling.

Enemies were still about, not quite so many, but they still were just as dangerous.

 

 

He kept his skull level with the soul that beat in tandem with his own. The strange magic blazed through his bones, arching between him and his love. Fell looked to him with a glint of amusement, seeming excited to test their shared energy.

 

“Ready, Fell?” He questioned, though he knew Fell would be ready so long as he was.

 

“As long as you are.” The other grinned to him, as if knowing what Sans had been thinking.

 

 

Violet magic engulfed them, their very souls on the brink of succumbing to the surge of energy. Bright, powerful bones crashed in waves from their synchronized attack, knocking monsters back.

A few made it past their assault, coming in for close-quarters combat.

 

 

Sans felt a bone light in his hand, a lengthy girth that manifested in his palms. The weight felt good as he wrapped his fingers about it and swung it in a back-handed attack, connecting with a monster that had gotten too close. He grunted from the hit, the blow shivering up the shaft and jolting his frame. But it felt good, it felt right. He could have sworn he’d felt it a thousand times, though he had never done such an attack.

 

His soul soared in his chest from the feeling, and he knew Fell felt it too. They were of one incredible soul in this moment, their breaths mingling, spines tingling, and souls ringing to some silent lilt.

 

A pair rushed them, magical weapons of their own in their hands. Sans blocked and parried the one, his instincts taking over, his eyes somehow knowing what to look for in his enemy’s movements. The magical weapon glanced off his long bone, sparking and crackling the violet magic with electric effect.

 

Fell parried beside him, flashing forth quick flashes of bones, magic blinking in and out of existence with mastered ease. His enemy took hit after hit, though blunt and low damage, they darted out in sporadic bursts, building in their intensity. The monster hardly knew where to look next or where to block.

 

As if coming to a silent accord, Fell seemed to know when to move them. He leapt away, saving Sans from an oncoming blow, and at the same time giving Sans much needed space. Sans used the swinging motion of his larger partner to send a slew of sharp bones shooting forth, stabbing into his adversaries. 

 

He could kill them. He knew that he could. His eyes could easily pick out their weak points, where their movements left their souls wide open for taking…but he would not. 

 

His own soul screamed with furious power, craving so much more, knowing that he could gain more EXP, that he could become more powerful. He could become the most powerful creature in the Underground. He could be showered in kisses if he so deemed it. He could be both loved, respected, and feared. No one would look down on him again.

 

Sans swallowed the feeling down, letting Fell’s beating soul encase him in a calculated calm, despite the heat of battle. His boiling marrow settled, and he focused back onto the task at hand: surviving.

 

 

Fell danced them to the side as his own enemy came sprinting back into action. He loosed a stream of bones outwards to collide with the monster.

It was over quickly, the monster obviously thinking they would have become weakened and tired by now. Not prepared for a fight, it scampered over to its companion near the building. The two wounded creatures quickly regrouped and retreated before something worse happened to them.  

 

 

Breath coming fast, they surveyed their work. It appeared no one else remained to challenge them. Either they had beaten them off, or the others had felt the vibe of their combined magic and ran.

 

 

“Nyeh heh heh! I never knew you could fight like that!” Fell grinned wide at him, looking fit to burst with excitement. “Sans, you were incredible!” Violet magic sparked within his sockets, his smile bright and full of glee.

 

Sans huffed, blushing from the compliment. He squeezed the hand in his own absently, brushing a thumb over the other's glove. “Mweh heh…thank you.” With a devilish smile, he tugged at Fell’s arm, and motioned for him to bend down with a curl of his finger.

 

 

Once he got close, Sans wrapped his free arm about his neck, and brought them into a kiss. Now that they were safe, he felt a little better about kissing him.

 

 

“well, obviously you guys are ok.” A rough, snide voice called.

 

The two skeletons stiffened and broke from their kiss, turning to see Red and Papyrus.

 

One with a smirk, the other a scowl.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, no Burden to Bear this weekend...
> 
> So, have this instead! :D Hopefully I'll get the character situation sorted out.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, if you've read Ch.15 check out these amazing pieces of art!
> 
> Love seeing Sans in his skimpy lil outfit in [this fanart](http://giogiostar.tumblr.com/post/146207040393/so-i-just-couldnt-resist-doing-this-and-while-i) by my friend, [@giogiostar](http://giogiostar.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Love is Worth Fighting For](http://trasharc.tumblr.com/post/146196949147/sometimes-i-wonder-if-love-is-worth-fighting) by the super talented, [@trasharc](http://trasharc.tumblr.com/)

 

 

Papyrus grit his teeth.

 

His brother held Fell's hand, kissing him. Bright, strange magic crackled about them, their souls glowing.

 

It was picturesque...if it weren't for them being covered in dust.

 

 

 

Anger seared his soul as he stood there. 

Sans, ridiculous in that skimpy outfit, coated from head to toe in gore. It was enough to make Papyrus feel sick.

And they were fucking kissing, with the dust all over them.

 

It was the most barbaric thing he'd ever seen, the fact that Sans was a part of it only made it worse.

And that bastard...Fell. He was kissing Sans with grime still on their bones like a goddamn lunatic. Nyeh heh, though he probably got off to that shit.

 

God, he wanted to retch.

 

 

He couldn't believe he trusted Fell enough to take Sans home! Of _course_ he'd try to get Sans to fight alongside him. Sans was probably a mental wreck! Weak, tired, oh god...if his hp was low Papyrus was going to kill Fell.

 

A wide smile stretched Fell's skull, and Papyrus could only feel angrier at it. He was corrupting Sans, probably made the little skeleton think that what they did was ok with his manipulative ways. He could only imagine what he had planned for Sans. Red had been his little toy soldier in Underfell, and Papyrus could clearly see that he was trying to make Sans into something more...another Red.

 

Magic trailed from his socket in thin, concealed wisps, his rage boiling over in his soul. Like _hell_ he was going to let Fell do that to Sans.

 

 

 

Red snorted beside him, and before Papyrus could stop him, he called out, "well, obviously you guys are ok." He grinned wide at startling the two skeletons. "heh," The small skeleton laughed, as he commented to Papyrus, "i've never seen boss look so happy." 

 

Papyrus huffed at the comment. Yeah, he sure did look happy. He looked _ecstatic_ for just having murdered a bunch of monsters.

 

Red turned at Papyrus' disgruntled noise. His brow pinched in worry as his voice softened in a rare display of genuine concern, "uh, hey? you ok, Pap?"

 

 

Papyrus wouldn't have been able to answer him even if he'd wanted to, for Sans cried out, "PAPY!"

His marrow churned as Sans excitedly said something to Fell, and pecked a quick kiss to his cheek.

 

After, he pulled away, their hands untwining.

 

 

As soon as their fingers parted, the odd mix-match magic faded. The effect it had on them was instantaneous. Sans stumbled and fell to the ground as his partner swayed before catching himself on one knee.

 

"Sans!" Fell hollered, reaching out to grab for him-

 

 

But Papyrus was too quick. He manifested himself right between the two, scooping up his brother into his arms. "Sans?" He choked, but upon bringing him to his chest, he felt the other's soul, weakly beating, though it was there.

 

With a sigh, he stood, and looked down to see Fell. There he still crouched in the snow, a shaking mess as he rested his weight on his knee. He said nothing, only relaxed with a sigh when he saw the dim light of Sans' soul. 

 

The two Papyruses locked eyes for but a second, before Fell looked away.

 

 

"boss!" Red cried as he skidded to his brother's side on his knees. His hands reached forward, as if to embrace him, but they stopped. Wracking with his own shakes, Red pulled his hovering, uncertain hands back to himself.

 

 

Before anything else could happen, Papyrus took charge. "Red, i want to short-cut Sans home." The small skeleton looked up at him in surprise, with a slight hint of anger. But Papyrus ignored him for now. Sans was badly hurt, and he needed to get him home. Trying to sweeten his roughness, he joked, "do you guys know the way home?"

 

Red watched him, his expression unreadable, but despite this he shrugged and smiled. "i should be able to find my way." Carefully, he took out the hand-held dimensional device from his pocket and handed it to Papyrus.

 

 

As he took it, he brought the other's hand up and kissed it's back. "like the _back of your hand_?" He chuckled, and smiled wider at the blush such an action caused. That was good enough for now, he supposed. 

 

 

 

Taking a few steps back, he pressed the button on the device, amplifying his magic to buzz through his bones, and warp them beyond time and space.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Red sat on his knees in the snow, watching the steam rise from where the magic had coursed.

 

He shivered, just now remembering how cold Underfell was when it turned night.

 

 

Fell still remained where he was, staring off in thought, his rattles growing quieter as his magic calmed. 

 

Red shifted nervously, glad that Fell was ok, but really missing Papyrus' presence.

The last time he and Fell had been left alone together it had not been pleasant. They both knew how to press each other's buttons the wrong way and they always ended up fighting.

 

Though Red knew it wasn't all Fell's fault.

They both were pretty awful, and Papyrus had been the one to point out how stupid some of the shit was that they fought over...sometimes coming to blows. Things like a fucking sock on the floor making them want to snuff the other one out was pretty fucking stupid when someone on the outside points it out. It wasn’t about dominance, it wasn’t about control, it was a _goddamn sock_.

Even remembering the embarrassing fight made him wince now. But at least there hadn’t been any more shameful fights. Cause they didn't talk all that much anymore, anyways.

 

Once Red found Papyrus, and once Blueberry started dogging after Fell...well, they grew apart, not having much to keep them together anyways.

 

 

But even so, Red...missed him, sometimes.

 

He was still his brother.

And when he'd heard that he was in trouble, when he'd seen him get hurt, and when he saw him looking so happy for that brief moment just moments ago...

He was reminded of that. He was reminded of the love they used to share when they were young. Life had been very cruel to the Underfell brothers; no one could deny that. And from cruelty came cruelty he supposed.

 

 

But it was no excuse now!

They were happy.

Both of them.

 

And goddamnit they needed to quit being so stupid about what happened in the past! They needed to move the fuck on and-

 

Oh, who was he kidding?

 

He sighed, sitting quietly. These thoughts were great and grandiose, but not realistic. All he could hope to do was sit here with his brother until he got his bearings and then they'd go home. After getting back to Underswap, they'd figure something out and then go their separate ways again until one of the Swaps made them interact again.

 

 

"Red."

 

The skeleton jumped at the sound of Fell’s voice, seeming far too loud in the otherwise deathly silence. He turned to see Fell watching him, his good eye studying him with that intense gaze of his.

He squirmed where he sat, memories of that same piercing stare surfacing. Some good. Some not-exactly good. "y-yeah, boss?" 

 

The other shifted, reaching forward.

 

 

Red gasped and flinched, raising his hands in defense.

To his surprise, Fell retracted his hand, his sockets first angry, then devolving into thoughtful concern. 

 

They sat quietly, neither one saying a word, until…

 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

 

Red snapped his head around so fast his eyes had a hard time catching up. He stared at his brother, not really sure if he had heard him right or if this was a dream or-

 

Fell chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that.” He fidgeted with his hands a moment, and then began to speak, “I just needed to tell you that. I’ve been…god, just _terrible_ to you, haven’t I?”

 

 

The words tumbled from his mouth before he had a chance to catch them, “no, boss! i’m fine! everything is fine!”

 

His younger brother watched him a moment, and Red had to look away. His nerves were flaring up, and he was really, _really_ wishing that Papyrus was here. He always felt more calm with him at his side, and it made it easier to think.

 

Shifting with a grunt, Fell hauled himself to his feet. He held out his hand to Red, and spoke gently, “Here. I know you don’t trust me. I understand. But I promise you, I won’t hurt you again.”

 

Red had heard similar promises, meant to be cruel and make him let his guard down. But the way in which he said it this time, and the way that he looked at him…

 

Red took his hand.

 

Fell helped him to his feet before turning away without another word. And Red trailed after him, as they used to do.

 

 

 

They walked along the dark roads, Red having a bit of a hard time at first adjusting to the utter blackness from being so used to the Swap universe. His magic soon adjusted though, and he made sure to keep up with Fell’s long strides.

 

His brother peered over his shoulder at him, eyeing the way Red practically jogged to tail at his heels. To his surprise, Fell slowed, taking his time to let Red catch up, adjusting his pace to match his own. Huffing lightly, Red was thankful for the respite. He was exhausted after the fighting.

 

“You don’t need to walk behind me, Red.”

 

The small skeleton startled at the invitation, his brother slowing his gait further for him to catch up, to walk at his side. And he did.

 

 

It was a strange change. In Underfell, everything was about dominance and power. Fell would lead, and Red would follow. Papyrus and Red walked side by side, Blueberry and Papyrus did, they all acted that way. In fact, most anybody he’d met in Swap world, that’s how you did it. You walked alongside each other to talk, to interact.

That had been a weird thing to get over, but Red understood it now. In Swap world, no one was more dominant than the other. Nobody cared. Nobody needed to care. Because in Swap world: you were equals.

 

 

 

He and Fell walked together, heading home like so many other times, but so very different than any other. Side by side, they pressed on, one clearly stronger, more forthright, but acknowledging Red as his equal.

 

“I think it best if we get back to Underswap immediately.” Fell stated as their house came into view.

 

Red grunted in response, definitely liking the idea. Underfell was a shit-hole, and now that the masses had been stirred up into primal frenzy, he sure as hell didn’t want to stick around to see the results.

 

Working their way round back, they went into his lab.

 

 

Fell tsked at the mess of papers and tools strewn about, but otherwise said nothing. No berating comment, no smack to the back of his skull, no nothing.

It actually made Red nervous. This was a new act entirely for Fell, and while he liked _not_ being yelled at, it left a sinking feeling in his soul. 

 

“boss?”

 

The skeleton turned to him, having begun absently straightening out some of the papers. “Yes? Is the machine ready?” He called over his shoulder, not stopping in his incessant need to keep things tidy.

 

“yeah…it’s all ready to go.” But there was more that he wanted to say. Red took the opportunity in their lapse of conversation to build up his nerve. Taking a breath, he fidgeted with his jacket as he asked, “boss…why are ya acting like this?”

 

Fell stopped his organizing, tapping his current stack of papers on the countertop with a sign before laying them aside and turning to Red. “Ah, shit… What did I do?” His brow pinched in the middle, confusion sparking in his socket.

 

“what did ya do?” Red repeated, not quite understanding.

 

“Yes, what did I do to make you upset?” That little pinch to his brow deepened into his familiar scowl, and Red flinched.

 

“n-nothing!”

 

Fell looked like he was going to yell, like he was going to throttle him for being an idiot, he looked deeply displeased and pissed, but he sighed. His features quickly relaxing as he ran a hand over his skull. “Red, please,” He crouched down to his level, carefully reaching out his hand, and taking Red’s in his own. “I’m…trying, really.” His red eye, normally full of hate and inexplicable rage and tiredness, looked so different. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore.” A kind of softness he’d never seen lie within his brother’s socket, and Red felt his soul ache as he held his stare.

 

Fell tore his eye away, looking down at Red’s hand. His thumb brushing along the bones. “I know you can’t forgive me. I know what I’ve done. I know how terrible it was, how terrible I am.”

 

 

“But I need you to know that I’m sorry. I am so, terribly sorry.”

 

 

The way that those words choked, the way that his brother shook, the way that he looked at his hand, touching it with such care and delicacy…it made Red’s soul beat hard in his throat. “bro.” He croaked, and before anything could stop himself, before any fears or anxieties or memories of the past could get in his way: he hugged him.

He wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close, the other going rigid in shock.

 

For a second, Red thought that maybe he would be shoved away, beaten, bruised, bloodied for his unwanted and filthy touch. The arms that gently wrapped around him whisked those thoughts away as they accepted the embrace.

 

 

Tears built in Red's sockets, only to fall. He sobbed against the other’s shoulder, crying out all his pain and fear, his suffering and need for his brother’s love.

 

And Fell held him, gently rubbing his back as he held him close, whispering broken apologies.

 

 

 

Sniffing, having cried out what felt like all of his tears, he pulled away from his brother.

 

Fell looked him over with a thick-sounding laugh, “Nyeh heh, you’re a mess.” Taking the end of his scarf, he wiped away the wetness on his skull. “Can’t have you going home looking like that.”

 

Red smiled back, “heh heh, yeah, that’s _snot_ a good idea, huh?”

His brother laughed through his nasal aperture, a sad smile on his skull. “Yeah, it’d be a _crying_ shame.”

 

 

 

Red’s soul beat with a wonderful warmth, and he gulped the feeling down. Giddy with his happiness, he turned to the machine and made the final preparations. “ok, the countdown is on.”

 

Numbers began to blink on the machine’s screen: 10.

He reached out his hand to Fell. 9.

 

8\. Who got to his feet and merely stared.

 

7\. “what are ya doing? c’mere.” He growled, waggling his hand at him. 6. “ya can’t use the teleporter by yourself!”

 

5\. “I know.”

 

4\. Red blinked in confusion, anger making his voice bite. “come on! quit messing around! i can’t stop the timer!”

 

3\. Red tried to stretch out to grasp at Fell, but the skeleton backed away.

 

2\. “I know.”

 

1\. “boss!” The magic shimmered and buzzed pleasantly in his soul, his magic amplifying in an incredible burst. “i’ll just come back to get you, _asshole_!”

 

Fell shrugged with a shit-eating smirk. “Take care…brother.”

 

The world warped in his vision, shifting and churning, until there was nothing but darkness. Through the dark, and suddenly into the light as he appeared in Papyrus’ lab.

 

 

“ _motherfucker!_ ” He screamed, racing over to the alternate machine and started it up. What the fuck was he thinking? Trying to be a goddamn ass, is what he was doing! Now he was gonna have to go back and-

 

 

 

The screen blinked up at him, the words upon it making his soul drop in his chest:

_Connection Lost._

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's still alive! :D

 

 

Fell went to the machine after Red had vanished. The screen blinked _Connecting..._ a few times, before finally it read out: _Success_

 

 

Satisfied that Red had made it safely to Underswap, he made his way forward and ripped the power cord from the wall with a spray of shattering drywall.

 

The device beeped in alarm at the loss of power before shutting down completely.

 

 

For a moment he stood there, looking down at the device, feeling proud of Red for being able to get such an awesome piece of ingenuity up and running.

 

He had never told him how smart he was.

 

But, he supposed, Papyrus would give Red plenty of praise. Red would be fine. He had no doubts about it. Papyrus was good to the small skeleton, and the fact that Red seemed to appear more confident and calm when he was around was evidence enough. 

Fell was happy for them.

They were good for each other.

 

 

As for Sans...

 

Well...

 

It was better this way.

 

 

 

Fell winced at the pain in his soul, but chose to ignore it. He was tired from the day and he was going to bed.

 

Fell knew now what happened in Hotland.

They had combined souls, hadn't they?

 

Shared their essence, entwined their very fabric of existence, their _souls_.

 

 

Walking in through the front door, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of disturbance. Something was off about the house.

 

It took him a few seconds to figure it out, but once he did, he wish he hadn't.

No lights were on for him.

No smell of spices and cooking meat on the air.

No gentle singing.

 

Fell braced himself against the table by the door, breath coming hard as the pain built in his soul tenfold.

 

 

He could still feel him.

 

 

A warmth that was unlike any other made up that other soul; it was happiness and excitement, a feeling of being so utterly full of life it made Fell feel lighter somehow. It was a beacon of determination that never died, holding the ability to always go that extra step no matter how many miles lie behind.

Sans was all trust and charisma and just an incredible force of life. 

 

He was the kind of monster that made you want to do better, be better, even if it wasn't possible.

 

His soul beat hard at the remembrance of that wonderful and strange embrace, craving that feeling, craving that incredible soul to be close to his own.

His soul called out for all of the good within him, and even all of the things less spoken of.

 

After all, even the greatest have their downfalls. 

 

He had felt a need to appease, a strange loneliness that Fell still had a hard time wrapping his skull around, and anger.

 

Anger at not being good enough, of being looked down on, talked down to, not respected, and worst of all: humiliated.

 

 

This was a side to Sans he'd never seen, never knew existed, never _imagined_ to exist!

 

 

 

It really did make him love him all the more.

 

 

 

Knowing that even the most perfect monster he knew had insecurities made him feel somehow better. As sick as that was. But it also made him long to give Sans that respect he so desired, to show him that he was incredible and wonderful in his own right! 

 

He wasn't afraid to be himself, wholly and truly. His unwavering sense of self is what drew Fell in, made him curious and want to learn more about him.

He wasn't afraid to do as he pleased, to try his best, to work towards being as good as he could be. He didn't take no for an answer, and he _never_ backed down, no matter the odds stacked against him.

Yet he was kind and helpful to others, impossible in his ability to make others smile and feel good.

He believed in everyone just as he believed in himself, and he would sacrifice his own dreams and desires just to uphold another's.

 

He was good.

He was powerful.

He was strong.

He was incredible.

 

 

 

And Fell never told Sans just how much he looked up to him.

 

He...truly admired the little guy. 

 

 

 

Rubbing at his sternum angrily, he decided to forgo food for the night and simply retire.

 

Uncaring, he tossed his clothing wherever he pleased as he made his way through the living room, up the stairs, and into his room.

 

 

 

Flopping onto the bed, he slithered under the covers. In the safety of his home, alone from prying eyes, he let loose a shaking sigh.

Curling into his covers, he closed his sockets to the pain, and tried to reason. 

He was a killer by design, it was his nature to be violent. It's all he could be. 

He was just plain mean, it was all he knew. Being too kind, too merciful, too forgiving in Underfell got you killed.

He was untrusting, and speaking of anything even remotely close to the soul was unfathomable and...difficult.

He did not know how to be romantic. It just was not something he was aware of. Hell, he hadn't known that there _was_ such a thing.

He was no fun. You know what they say about all work and no play. Well, just call Fell "Jack", cause that's what he was.

 

 

All of these were what made him him, and all of these were exactly the opposite of Sans.

 

Sweet and kind, Sans had never hurt anyone as far as Fell knew. Other than in self defense here in Underfell.

He was never mean, either. Even to someone who might deserve it.

He was so full of trust and hope it was alarming. Always believing anyone could be good, that anyone could turn themselves around. But of course that wasn't true.

Sans was very much into cuddles and kisses, hugs and hand-holding. Flowers and walks at night... Fell was not one to have such potential wasted on.

He was fun. He always was pulling the skeletons into an adventure of some sort, and even the most menial of scenarios became something extraordinary and exciting with him.

 

 

 

They didn't work.

They couldn't work.

 

He should have seen it sooner.

 

If he'd have seen it sooner, then maybe Sans wouldn't have gotten hurt.

It was better this way.

 

 

Even as he lie there reasoning, and coming up with some pretty damn good reasons at that, he still ached. His soul beat weakly in his chest, twisting and straining.

After holding it back for so long, he finally let a pained sound whisper from his teeth. 

 

But, of course,

It didn't solve anything.

 

 

Turning over in bed, he froze.

 

His sockets trained on that empty spot beside him. He was so used to seeing a gentle face cradled in the pillows, dreaming. He always woke before Sans, and though he disliked leaving him so early before he awoke...he had liked to see him so calm.

So vulnerable and sweet.

 

Sometimes he would just lie there, watching Sans sleep. The way his chest rose and fell, the small twitch of his sockets, the tiny sounds that sometimes snuck from his dreams.

 

But now that space lie empty.

 

 

 

A tentative hand reached out to the pillow of its own volition, though his mind screamed at it to stop. The rebellious appendage pulled it over, bringing with it that familiar scent. Just a small catch was a knife to his soul, and yet he brought it closer. Torturing himself.

 

Holding it close, he buried his skull in the fabric, breathing in the smell that still lingered so strongly: spices and warmth.

 

 

Fell gasped at the knife that twisted in his chest. Burying his face in the pillow, he tried to ground himself, tried to keep what built inside at bay. He...

 

Couldn't. 

 

Wetness blinked onto his cheekbones.

 

 

Getting up from his bed with a flurry of covers and an angry growl, he threw open the dresser and threw on whatever fucking thing he grabbed first.

 

 

 

 

He made his way downstairs and then left his home behind. The air was cold as hell, his magic-warmed breath billowing out behind him in great clouds. At least the chill could be blamed for the tears that snuck through every now and then. 

 

The nights were cold, not many monsters would be out...besides the strongest. And though it was arguably the most dangerous in Underfell at night, Fell hardly gave a damn.

He walked on the path with uncaring strides, not bothering to dampen his steps nor stick close to the darkest shadows.

 

Fell saw a few eyes watch him go, though he had a singular goal in mind, and kept fucking going.

 

The dim light of a familiar bar came into view, and he picked his way through the snow to stand before the door.

His fingers hovered over the grimy knob, his morality kicking in to pester him a bit about being pathetic before he pushed that aside too.

 

 

As he stepped inside, the patrons of the bar turned in shock to see him. They stared, a few laughing to their pals at the nasty hole in his face.

 

He ignored them all, knowing that no matter what he said he would not be taken seriously. He could take out one, and they'd all spring forward to attack. Without fear he was liable to defeat.

 

 

So he sat at the bar with the other poor bastards...nyeh heh, in Sans' old spot no less. 

What a funny bit of irony, huh?

He must have been smiling in thought, for the hellish, violet flame monster raised a brow before hissing, "What's so funny, bonehead?"

 

He shrugged, "Nothing you'd care to hear."

 

"Hmm," Grillby squinted, studying him. "Your brother hasn't been around here in months, if that's why you're here." He spoke carefully, though the message was clear: what the fuck are _you_ doing here?

 

 

 

Placing a handful of gold on the counter, he let  his money do the talking. 

 

Grillby looked him over thoughtfully before scooping the gold up and securing it in his pocket. Without another questioning glance he gave him a smirk, "What'll it be then?"

 

Waving him off, he made an ambiguous grunt as a response.

 

"Hmm, mustard?" Grillby asked with a raised brow, though at Fell's distasteful expression his fire crackled in thought. 

Grabbing a bottle of alcohol off the shelf he tipped it in question, to which Fell laughed,

 

"Alcohol doesn't do much good; it goes right through me." Quite literally. For whatever reason he and Red had always been completely immune to the stuff. The only liquids they could keep down were condiments and milk.

 

 

Huffing, Grillby crouched under the counter, rummaging in the cabinets. A few moments later, he reappeared with a frown. "It's the only thing I've got besides mustard and ketchup." 

 

Fell said nothing beyond taking and looking over the bottle Grillby presented to him: hot sauce. Taking the cap off he sniffed curiously. The scent was strong and pungent, the fumes making his sockets and nasal aperture sting. Sounded good.

"I'll give it a shot." He mumbled, handing the bottle back to Grillby.

 

 

The bartender went to the counter and poured him a tumblr, setting it down before him, a grin tugging his mouth. "You guy's are fucking weird."

 

"Bite me." Fell grumbled as he picked up the glass. He examined the thick, bright red liquid, trying to not think about how it looked quite like another very familiar substance. Shrugging that little personal thought away, he raised the tumbler to his teeth. Spicy and strong, it sparked on his tongue and burned at his throat. And it didn't drain all over his bones and clothes. Perfect.

 

Sensing that Fell was satisfied, Grillby went to take the bottle back, when Fell stopped him. "Here." He set down more gold, more than enough to cover the drink. "Leave the bottle."

 

 

Grillby gave him a cursory look before nonchalantly looking over the bar. He leaned in on the counter, coming close enough to whisper, "You sure you want to be getting wasted, pal? You seem to be a popular topic right now..." Waving off any thoughts of him being sentimental or possibly caring about Fell, he quickly added, "Not that it's my problem, but you're the first customer I've had to pay _before_ they got shit-faced."

 

Fell laughed through his nose. "Nyeh heh, sure, I believe that. But you're right, it's not your problem."

 

 

Shrugging, Grillby took the offered coins and left the bottle. "Your funeral, pal."

 

"Mmhmm." Was all he grumbled as he took another burning gulp from his glass.

 

 

The hot sauce was better than any mustard. After a few drinks his tongue became heavy and burned deliciously, his skull thankfully going blank and the pain in his soul dulling.

 

 

Yet he wasn't drunk enough to banish his wandering thoughts. 

 

He kept trying to come up with ways to make things right, to make things work somehow.

 

He had tried to be better, hadn't he? 

He tried to socialize more whenever they went to Underswap. He tried to "make small talk" as some of the books on friendship suggested.

 

His attempts always ended in failure.

He was awkward and strange, and not used to the other world's culture.

 

To them he was an absolute creep.

He didn't fit in, he didn't belong.

 

They remembered the Terrible Papyrus. They remembered the way he'd come to their world, thirsty for blood and power, wanting a weak realm to overthrow and rule as his own.

 

He'd caused a lot of damage.

 

 

If it hadn't been for his brother getting captured, then, well...he might have just succeeded.

 

And the monsters of Underswap were not about to forget that.

 

 

No, he couldn't go back. He didn't belong among their ranks.

 

He was mean, cruel, vicious, and above all else selfish.

Fell thought only of himself, and he knew that now. 

 

Staring into his bottle, he let the feeling of guilt in his chest eat at him. He deserved it.

 

The way he'd treated his brother over all these years...using him like some sort of pawn to further his own ends. Hurting him so much, and justifying it as a way to make him become better...shit, now it all seemed just so awful. 

It hadn't been helping his brother at all. In fact, it'd hurt him. It had cut Red deeply, made him terrified and distrusting. 

He'd ruined him.

 

And Sans...

He'd let his own selfish need for Sans' affection get in the way of his judgment. He should have known that this place was too dangerous for him. He should have known getting too deep into this would only hurt the small skeleton.

But he did it anyway.

 

 

 

Fell felt his sins crawling on his back, claws digging deep to pierce through his soul.

There was no hope for him.

 

 

 

Taking a drink, he tried to clear his skull of his thoughts.

 

It didn't matter.

None of it mattered.

 

He'd made sure he wouldn't hurt anyone again.

 

 

He sat quietly, wallowing in his misery, not caring what any of the other patrons were up to.

Probably talking about him. Wasn't too big a deal. He knew what they were talking about.

 

 

Who was going to strike first?

 

 

Easy and abundant XP, drunk as hell at the bar, certainly enough to share with a friend or two.

 

Whatever.

He knocked back the rest of his glass and fumbled with the bottle to pour himself another. 

 

"Aye, bones."

 

He sighed, hurrying with his pouring before taking a few large, burning gulps.

 

"I'm talkin' to you, bones."

 

"Yeah?" He called over his shoulder. "I can tell."

 

"Haha, we was jus' talkin' 'bout you. And we was thinking: why don' ya let us give tha' glory hole a' yours a try? Hahaha!"

 

 

Not even giving them the satisfaction of seeing his face, he merely flipped them off over his shoulder. Chugging his goddamn drink, he loosed a burning sigh to relieve the pain in his throat.

 

As expected, a hand smacked onto his shoulder to wrench him around in his stool.

 

"You fuckin' ass!" The monster snarled, an ugly thing for certain. His fishy face mostly nothing but lips and brows. 

 

 

His buddies crowded in on either side, sliding up to try and take hold of his arms. 

Though drunk, he shrugged off the grasping hands at first, but there were too many. He growled at their advances. "Release me this instant!" He slurred, his soul fluttering in his ribs with sudden fear.

 

His skull swimming from his drink, he could not seem to shake them off. That, and they were much more bold than they normally would be.

After all, he wasn't such a terrifying threat as they first thought, now was he?

 

 

The rest of the bar went quiet, ignoring them, but keeping a curious ear and eye to the action. Fell didn't even bother calling for help. No one here wanted to get involved. It could mean life or death, and he sure as hell wasn't worth the risk.

 

 

The ugly fish came forward, a cheshire grin on his mug. "Nah, won't be doin' that. Now, the question is whether we should kill you outright..." He tried to turn his head away as a fin cupped his face, but the many hands restraining him made it impossible. His soul pounded in his chest at the smirk on the fish's face. "Or maybe we should have a bit a fun first..."

 

He gasped before crying out as the appendage toyed at his ruined socket, sharply dragging a claw to rim the broken bone.

"Stop!" Fell breathed, feeling sick to his core at the desperation in his own voice. God, how far he'd fallen. Letting himself go lax, he tried to scrape up what little dignity he had left as he loosed a slurring growl, "If you're goin' to kill me jus' do it."

 

 

 

The monsters around him seemed a bit surprised by his quick surrender. They looked to each other in question, apparently not expecting this to be so easy for them.

 

The fish monster had paused his painful touches, but after a moment to think, he suddenly shoved a digit into his socket.

Fell screamed from the pain, the sharp fin scraping at the inner magic within his skull.

 

"Mm," The ugly fish smiled. "Wonder what you'll feel like round my dick?"

 

Fell gasped and panted as the appendage left his eye, the pain enough to make his knees buckle.

 

The monsters, once restraining him, now made to support him.

"This a good idea, pal?" A red bird chirped to his fish friend.

 

 

 

The fish snorted a laugh. "We're fine, jus' look at 'em! He's a broken piece a shit! Bah!" He spat on Fell, missing his face, but making a disgusting glob on his sweater. "Why ya' think he's in 'ere? He was asking for someone ta' off 'em! Ha, he didn' even heal up!"

 

A rough hand gripped his chin, forcing him to look up at the thick-lipped, bush-browed monster. "It's a' truth, ain't it, bones?"

 

 

 

Struggling hard, he tried to call forth magic, but it was useless with his hands being held so tightly. "N-no!" 

 

"Yeah, it is." A wide smirk crossed those lips, yellowed teeth poking through. "C'mon, fellas, why don'cha bring him on down so I can have a bit a' fun? If none a' you are gonna do it, I sure as fuck am. That metal-slut got me all horny the other day, an' I have half'a mind ta try this out."

 

 

Fell felt overflow rise into his throat as he was wrestled to his knees. "No...don't." He choked, terror making him quite sober. "Please..." He begged lamely, the fear of such atrocious pain plain in his mind. "Please, jus' kill me."

 

"I will, bones. Don't you fuckin' worry 'bout that." The monster tugged at his pants, and Fell felt ill at the unclean cock he brought forth, a fishy stench wafting from it. "I'm just gonna get a bit a' fun out of ya first."

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I keep forgetting the app I used on my phone does the html code thing for italics when I try to transfer it to word.
> 
> Its fixed now goddamnit.

 

 

Violet lights, dancing, the snow kicking up underfoot... These were his dreams. All to the beat of a rhythm he knew so well.

The beat of his soul.

 

Of their souls.

 

 

Sans groaned as he opened his sockets. The room spun and swam in his eyes as the too bright light from the window hit them, making him wince. Throwing a hand over his sockets, he curled his legs as the aches came to greet him. Every bone in his body hurt it seemed like. 

 

For a second he felt a sharp stab of panic.

 

He was alone. He gripped at his chest, feeling as if he were only partially alive: the beat inside his chest wasn't the same, he felt...hollow.

 

His panic thankfully subsided once his groggy wits came to him, and he sighed. He felt empty and hollow because it was just him. His soul and his soul alone beat in his chest and pulsed his life-giving magic.

Sans was ok,

 

But where was Fell?

 

 

Turning over, he reached out to the other side of the bed as he tried to blink away the spots in his eyes from the intense light through the window. He was pleased as a familiar form met his fingertips. Smiling, he wriggled forward to hug Fell tight, his soul lifting in his chest.

"I'm so glad you're safe." He sighed, burying his skull in his hoodie...

 

 

Hoodie?

 

 

Sans' relief left him in an instant.

 

He gasped, sitting up in bed to stare down at the still-sleeping form of his brother. 

"PAPYRUS!" He yelled, scaring the other out of his sleep with a jolt and a holler.

 

"nyeh!" His brother screamed, flipping onto his back, his hand clutched at his throat. Orange magic trailed from his socket, until he saw who it was that had awaken him. "oh, geez, Sans...you scared me _out of my skin_." His brother chuckled tiredly as he rubbed a hand at his socket.

 

But Sans did not feel like dealing with his punnery, nor letting him take his time to wake up. "Where is Fell?"

 

 

 

Papyrus stiffened at the question, a flash of anger crossing his features before softening back into his lazy signature.

"well," He started before he sat up on the bed, reaching out to grab hold of Sans' hands. "here's the thing..."

 

Sans sat on the edge of his seat, anxious now at hearing Papyrus' voice lower. He gently brushed his thumbs against Sans' smaller hands, seeming to be thinking something over.

 

"What?" Sans asked, squeezing Papyrus' hands in growing fear. "What happened?!"

 

 

"Fell..." Papyrus squeezed Sans' hand back comfortingly. "he...didn't want to come."

 

Sans narrowed his eyes at him. "That's not funny, Papyrus." Papyrus was a trickster, but this was a new low!

 

 

"Sans, listen. i'm not trying to be funny." Papyrus grew serious, clasping Sans' hands in his own. "i know you had...feelings for Fell-"

 

"I love him." Sans stated bluntly, staring Papyrus down. "And he loves me."

There was something Papyrus wasn't telling him. He could feel it.

 

Papyrus' nasal ridge scrunched in disgust. Only slightly, but it was enough for Sans to see. Anger started up in his soul, though he held his tongue.

 

"well, Fell didn't come back with Red. apparently he wanted to stay behind in Underfell."

 

 

"That's not true."

 

Papyrus sighed in exasperation. "Sans, it _is_ true. look, the guy's a bad egg. he _wanted_ to stay behind in Underfell. he even broke the machine so we can't bring him back!"

 

Anger flared up inside, and he felt it spill over into rage. "Why do you say these things?" His soul felt like it was going to explode, the words that built inside erupting from his mouth, "WHY DO YOU DISAPPROVE OF FELL AND I?!" 

Papyrus flinched from the accusation, but before he could defend himself, Sans growled, "Why are you allowed to have Red and be happy, but I can't be happy with Fell?"

 

"Sans-"

 

"NO!" He screamed, fed up with Papyrus' constant glares to Fell, and passive-aggressive attitude. He knew it all, he'd seen it all. And he'd just ignored it, because Papy would eventually get over it. 

 

Or so he'd thought.

 

 

"I'm an _adult_ Papyrus! Heck, I'm _older_ than you!" His bones rattled with his anger, and he felt it burn through his marrow. 

"I can make my _own_ decisions! I don't need you to baby me!"

 

He'd never been so mad in his life! He shook with his fury, but he swallowed it back down with a harsh sigh. He grounded himself with slow breaths, trying to take a step back.

This was his brother, and while he did some things that were dumb, and he definitely could be overprotective, Sans knew he meant well.

Taking another calming breath, he released it and held Papyrus' bewildered stare. "Papyrus. I am my own skeleton. And while you may not approve of Fell and I, that's not my problem."

 

Papyrus sat gape mouthed, utterly confused by the serious way in which Sans spoke. His blue eyes holding a kind of determination never seen in the small skeleton.

 

"I love him, and that's that. And I'm going to figure out what's going on, with or without you."

 

His brother sat staring off into space before he blinked hard. "wow...Sans...." He looked shaken,  guilt quite evident in his very readable skull.

 

That had been a lot for Papyrus to hear, he was sure, but it needed to be said. Sans softened his tone, gently squeezing his brother's hands. "I really want you to help me figure this out, Papy. I-It would be like a puzzle!" He leaned forward and gave his little brother a big hug, hoping to squeeze out some of the pain of his words. "Mweh heh...I don't want you to come along just because it's a puzzle, though. I want you to be there, because you're my brother, and I love you."

 

 

 

Papyrus wrapped his arms tightly about Sans, burying him in his oversized hoodie. "you really love him, huh?"

 

Looking up, he held those lazy eyes, tired, but cautious. He spoke firmly and finally, "Yeah, I do."

 

"but is he good for you? is he good to you?" He questioned him, his gaze hard, and jaw set stubbornly.

 

"He's the best. I know he'd give me anything in the world if I asked." He sat back from their hug, smiling up at his big little brother. "And he has never hurt me, Pap. He would never." Sans chuckled to himself, feeling a bit embarrassed for Fell's sake. "He's...a lot different than you think. He is very kind and very sweet."

 

Papyrus only grunted in response. Thinking a moment, he brushed Sans' skull. "you've been hurt cause of him."

 

"I would be dead without him." Sans answered back.

 

 

His brother visibly winced at the comment, looking like he was losing a battle. "well...how do you know he feels the same way?" Papyrus asked finally, raising a brow. "what if he doesn't feel the same way you do?"

 

Sans' soul twisted in his chest, and he placed a hand there to comfort the aching magic. "I felt it." He whispered quietly. Whatever had happened in Underfell, whatever that strange magic had been. He knew that what he felt was Fell. Everything that made him, everything that he was. Fell was strong, fast, and cunning. He was calm when he needed to be, but quick to anger otherwise.

 

But there was more than just that.

 

As their souls intertwined, as they beat as one in such harmony: he felt him. And it was unlike any side he'd ever seen to Fell, but it made Sans love him all the more. Knowing what lie deep within his guarded soul. A great thirst for adventure, a steadfast sense of loyalty, a strong need to protect. 

All these things made his soul beat hard in his chest, and made a smile itch at his teeth. Deep down, Fell was a regular knight-wannabe! Mweh heh, he was practically born to be a Royal Guard!

 

And, though he felt all that built Fell up, he was also made aware of that which tore him down. His weaknesses laid out flat, and Sans ached even now at the remembrance.

A gripping fear of loneliness, a longing for comfort, a need to feel close. 

 

And a deep self-hate.

 

It hurt to see Fell like this, it hurt to have felt such pain. 

And Sans wanted nothing more than to love him as he deserved.

 

 

 

Holding Papyrus' gaze with his own, he gave his final judgement. "He loves me. And I him."

 

Papyrus sat there, searching him, as if hoping to find even the smallest shred of doubt...

But he'd find none.

 

 

With a sigh, his brother relaxed, his shoulders slumping. "nyeh heh...ok. why don't we see what Red's up to?"

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyy! Would you look who's alive! ME!!!

 

 

Papyrus followed after Sans, his little-big brother too worried and excited to even change out of his pajamas as he all but sprinted to the stairs.

 

"Come _on_ , Papyrus! We need to hurry! What if he's hurt? What i-if..." Sans dropped the thought with a clasp to his mouth, as if afraid to hear the words tumble out.

 

 

 

Papyrus sighed, trying so hard to not feel angry, to not feel disgust. It was hard. He still didn't trust Fell, and he sure as hell didn't like him.

 

But Sans was right.

Papyrus hadn't respected Sans. Sans was an adult, despite his innocent demeanor. He needed to hear that. And he was actually really proud of Sans for sticking up for himself.

 

 

It had been a real slap in the face, but it woke him up for sure.

 

And he was right, too, that he was being unfair. Papyrus had Red. And while Red was a bit better now he still had...difficulties.

His soul churned in his chest as he remembered the bloodthirsty slaughter Red had caused in Underfell.

It was still hard to accept that it was real and that it had really happened. It just didn't seem like the Red he knew.

 

Maybe...maybe Fell was like that with Sans?

He just didn't know. But it got him thinking.

Sans showed a whole different side to himself, a stronger side. He wasn't ignorant of the fact that his change in _real_ confidence possibly came about as a result of Fell. 

Sans had been upset with Papyrus before about a lot of stuff, but he'd never put his foot down as he had when it came to Sans' relationship. Papyrus was still reeling, but yeah, he was definitely proud too.

 

He seemed like he was growing up, nyeh heh, gaining a _spine_ more like it.

 

 

Speaking of Sans, he raced outside as soon as he threw open the door, and still Papyrus followed. Followed around back and then into their shed where the dimension machine lie.

 

Angry curses and the sound of crashing could be heard from within.

 

Worry spurred him forth as he raced around Sans to look inside first.

 

 

Red cursed at the machine, down on his hands and knees before an open panel, covered in grease. He screeched " _fuck!_ " as he flicked his hand in pain before bringing an injured digit to his mouth. He glowered at the device, a look searing enough to kill.

 

 

"hey, Red." Papyrus gently called, testing the waters to see how Red was doing-

 

" _hi._ " Red hissed before turning back to his work.

Oof, those were some treacherous waters alright.

 

Sans peeked around the corner, and before Papyrus could warn him of the other's mood, he asked, "Is everything ok-?"

 

 

As if a lever had been pressed by those words, Red exploded, " _no, everything is shit! that goddamn motherfucking asshole of a cunt! that bitchass cumwad must of fucked all the shit up to hell! i'm gonna kill him!_ "

 

Sans seemed to shrink where he stood, face burning from the horrendous slew of curses. Papyrus gave a gentle pat to Sans' shoulder in apology for Red.

 

"you make any progress, bud?" Knowing Red was already pissed, he decided to whittle out some status.

 

 

Slamming the panel he'd been working on closed, Red wiped his hands on a nearby grimy rag. "oh, i'm making fucking progress all right! and when i get back to Underfell i'm gonna _kick his ass_!" Growling under his breath, he stormed over to Papyrus and held out his hand expectantly. "gimme a fucking cig."

 

Sans kept quiet as Papyrus gave Red a stick and lit him up. He didn't even peep a word as Red loosed a thick cloud from his teeth. 

 

"goddamnit..." Red sighed, looking up at Papyrus he gave him an apologetic, sheepish grin. "uh, thanks, Paps."

 

"no problem." He smiled down at him right back, knowing that this was hard for him. Fell had pulled a real doozy on him earlier.

 

 

Red had come into the house crying and babbling like a lunatic, sobbing that, "he's such an ass", "oh my fucking god, he really does love me", "fuck why the hell am i crying", "fuck him", "what the fuck is he doing", "why the hell did he fucking do this", and many other iterations and variations of the word "fuck".

 

It took quite a while to get him calm enough to tell Papyrus what happened, but when he did get it out it left Papyrus confused.

 

 

Fell? Apologizing?

No, Fell...trying to make up?

 

 

He'd never believe such a thing if anyone but Red had told him. Seeing the little guy sitting there on the couch, sockets staring off into space with a dull poignancy to his eyes...a tiny smile breaking through every now and then as he thought things through...

Yeah, it had to be true without a doubt.                                             

 

After that, Red began working on the machine, trying to see if maybe he could link it up to a similar prototype in the Underfell Lab.

"it's old as shit by now." Red had growled, "but i could probably add a separate circuit to help tune this baby down and match its hardware." As he looked over the daunting task of adding on a completely new dimensional device router, Papyrus couldn't help but smile at Red's newfound determination.

 

 

Sans had slept for most of the time Red was working. He slept an alarming amount for him being Sans: nearly 15 hours!

Papyrus had stayed by his side, making sure he was breathing, making sure his soul still beat, giving him little bits of milk to keep him hydrated...

 

But now that Sans was awake, and Red was getting close to finishing up the machine from the looks of it; they needed to come up with a plan.

 

 

"so," Papyrus began, drawing the attention of the two smaller skeletons. "whose going to Underfell?"

 

"ME!" Sans all but screamed, giving Papyrus an I-won't-take-no-for-an-answer look. 

 

After a sidelong glance to Red, he came to Papyrus' rescue. "sorry, Blue. can't do it."

 

Sans' brow pinched in confusion, "What do you mean I can't do it?"

 

"didn't mean _you_ can't do it." He thumbed the machine at his back. "this trash heap can't do it. the prototype only works if you have teleportation magic already." He shrugged, "heh, even if you _have_ teleportation magic it can still be a bitch. hurts like a fucker if you're not careful."

 

Papyrus perked up at that in surprise. "what? is this dangerous?"

 

"probably." Red sniffed. "the piece of shit hasn't been used enough to really know."

 

Nervous now, he pressed Red. "how far have you jumped before with that thing?"

 

Raising a brow at Papyrus, he fidgeted a bit with his jacket. "i dunno...maybe...halfway across the Underground?"

 

" _which_ Underground?" Papyrus growled.

 

"the Underground...in Underfell." Red admitted quietly, not meeting his gaze.

 

Papyrus balked. "so you don't even know if this will let you travel trans-dimensionally?!"

 

"hey! i've run a shit ton of calculations-!"

 

"what if you're wrong?!" Papyrus felt his soul jump into his throat at the outcomes of such a risk.

None of them were pretty.

 

 

Sans came forward, fear making his voice crack, "W-wait! Could you get hurt, Red? I-isn't there another way?"

 

Red threw his hands up in anger to both Swaps. "i'm trying my best here!"

He stomped over to the machine and began flicking switches and reading over the screens. "if it fucks up it'll be my own goddamn fault!"

 

Papyrus grabbed Red's arm, staring him down. "you're not going to throw yourself away for him."

 

Red stopped dead, turning to face Papyrus fully. "i ain't _throwing myself away_ , Pap." Red stared right back. "i'm trying to save my brother." His voice lowered into a near-growl as venom steeped in his tone, "i could'a sworn _you'd_ understand."

 

 

Papyrus stood shaking in anger, conflicting thoughts in his skull. Hatred for Fell, guilt for Sans, fear for Red. 

 

Seeing the determination in Red's sockets, he knew of what he spoke. Golden hallways, red painted upon the tile, the light fading in his sockets as a smiling face watched him fall to dust. He sighed, "yeah...i do."

Everything fell onto this moment.

"so, i'll go, Red."

 

 

Red threw him a sour glance. "no, ya won't. i'm going."

 

Papyrus stepped closer, loosening his grip on Red's arm, but pulling him in. He whispered, low enough so Sans would have a hard time hearing, but loud enough for Red. "Red, i've got more hp than you do."

 

The smaller skeleton frowned, worry crossing his features. "i know...but...if something goes wrong i'd rather if it were me-"

"i wouldn't." Papyrus interjected, leaning in to place a tender kiss to his teeth. "i can handle a little bit of a fuck up."

"it'd be a pretty big fuck up."

"nyeh heh, i've probably had worse." He chuckled, Red being the only other monster that knew of what he spoke.

 

Still, Red did not seem amused. "Pap, look, he's my bro..."

"i know. i know you'd do anything for him." He squeezed his arm comfortingly. "and because of that, and because he means so much to my bro, i will too."

 

Arms suddenly wrapped around his waist and he looked down to see Sans, tears forming in his sockets. "Oh, Papy!" He sniffed, "You really are the best brother!"

 

He gave Sans his signature lazy grin. "nyeh heh. yeah, i know." Hugging his bro back, he looked to the machine with a shiver.

 

Red noticed. "Pap, i really would rather go-"

 

He waved him off as he broke from Sans' spine-breaking hug. "it's fine. though...how will i get back?"

 

"it depends." Red mused. "i don't know how fucked my machine is. use it to get back if you can, if not try the Lab's." At Papyrus' questioning look, he added, "it works basically the same as this one. it just looks like shit."

 

"ok." Papyrus said, his nerves starting to get to him. This was really happening.

 

 

"Papy?" A small voice called, making him turn to see Sans, tears in his sockets. 

 

He wrapped the skeleton up in a bear of a hug. "i'll be fine. be back in no time dragging Fell here by his fucking-"

 

"Papy..." The choked sound from his brother made him bite back his angry words. Sans sighed, "I love you, brother."

 

"i love you too." Parting with a rub to his little-big brother's skull, he made his way to Red. Who stood quietly by the machine, lost in thought.

 

 

Snaking his arms about his middle, he pulled him close. "don't worry. you're good at this kind of stuff. i know i'll be ok."

 

Red leaned into him, not quite able to look him in the eye. "Pap, if this doesn't work...you c-could-"

 

"nah." He clanked a kiss to the top of his skull, and then another, and another. After hailing Red with the tender loving, he was finally met with his teeth. 

 

He kissed him deeply, sweetly. He took him in with a wonderful sigh and a rise in his soul. As Papyrus looked over him, so worried and scared, clutching onto his hoodie so desperately, not wanting to let him go... He knew that Red loved him.

Truly, wholly, and without needing words.

 

"you love me." Papyrus stated softly, kissing at his cheek. 

 

Red's sockets went wide as he pulled away, his mouth floundering for words. Those three words that were so hard to say alluded his reach each and every time he went to speak them. But now, he was given a chance. A chance to speak them without them really being spoken.

 

"y-yes."

 

Papyrus wrapped him hard in his embrace, peppering his skull with kisses and words of love. Red was quick to return his affections, his soul so bright and so strong, so much better than it ever had been before. Finally, they broke apart their souls dimming as they needed to painfully part.

 

 

 

Going to the machine, Red got the final preparations ready while Papyrus readied his magic.

 

  1. The countdown began.



 

  1. 8\. 7.



 

Sans hollered over the countdown, "Be careful, Papy!"

 

"i will."

 

  1. 5\. 4.



 

Red, though looking distraught, kept up a smile for him. "watch your back!"

Papyrus merely nodded, flexing his fingers with a huffing sigh.

 

  1. 2.



 

"see ya guys later." He smirked, giving a final wave to the two Sanses.

 

1.

 

Magic crackled through his bones, much harsher than he'd ever felt. He grunted as he was all but ripped from his dimension, his bones feeling as if they were moving though he remained still. The feeling was nauseating and dissociating, and just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore there was a snap.

 

A snap, a crackle, and then he was falling.

 

 

He cried out as he fell, only to clatter to a hard surface a few seconds later.

"ugh..." He groaned, trying to get his bearings, his skull was a spinning mess.

 

Finally, he blinked, taking in the harshly lit room in which he'd made quite the entrance.

 

 

Bright gray tiles, gray walls, everything was gray. The only thing not so drab was the overheard buzzing lights, their shine cutting through the darkness like a knife.

 

The room he was in looked extremely underused, crates upon crates stacked inside the room, everything coated in a fine layer of dust.

 

 

The machine that helped get him here looked like...well, a piece of shit, as Red had said.

Half of its protective panels were missing or dented, wires naked to the air and components within just as dusty as its surrounding forgotten pieces of junk.

 

Papyrus would rather not try to use that piece of shit again if he could help it. It didn't look like it could handle much more.

 

Well, he was here now. And, thankfully, he was all in one piece. Taking out the trans dimensional pocket-device he made a few adjustments to the parameters, and set to jump to the Underfell brother's home.

 

 

The device caused magic to tingle through his bones, much more pleasantly than the other machine had.

His bones felt electric as his magic raced and in the blink of an eye he was gone.

 

Gone from the Labs and suddenly reappearing in the darkness and bitter cold of Underfell.

 

Holding his hoodie tight he shivered and made his way to the house. He wasn't too far, just a little ways. Enough to keep him from accidentally warp-crashing into someone.

 

But from the looks of the still-dark windows of the house, he most likely wasn't going to crash into anybody.

Worry worked its way into his skull, knowing Fell and Sans were creatures of strict routine. Wake up, make breakfast, calibrate puzzles, have lunch, go to training, run patrol, come home, make supper, watch tv, take a shower, go to bed. Like the holiest form of clockwork, it was religious and strict. Deviation was unacceptable.

 

Papyrus checked the time on his phone, knowing that this was the "make supper" time of the day. Yet, no lights were on...was nobody home?

 

He went to the door and knocked. When there was no answer he tried a couple more times. Strange.

He thought a moment, thinking maybe he could try the doorknob. It was a silly thought, cause of _course_ it was locked. Red said an unlocked door was an invitation for dea-

 

He tried it, and it turned. Blinking in surprise he made his way inside. "Fell?" He called as he poked his head inside the house, it being much too dark to see anything. He fumbled for the light switch on the wall, thankful that their houses were the same layout. He flicked on the lights and found nothing.

 

He peered into the kitchen, seeing no plates or utensils drying as would be the customary routine after eating supper. So, he hadn't eaten then?

 

 

 

Grumbling to himself, he went out to the living room and noticed something on the couch: Fell's armor, carelessly strewn on the sofa.

 

Now _that_ was really not a good sign. Fell treated that armor better than most monsters. It was a symbol of pride for him, much like how Sans adored his own battle body.

He certainly would _never_ leave it lying out like that and be liable to be sat on no less.

"hey, uh, Fell? ya here?" He called out, making his way to the stairs.

 

All was quiet as he topped the stairs, looking to see both Fell's room and Red's room.

 

The door before him stood open, and as he looked in he already knew Fell wasn't here: his room lie empty. 

The rest of his battle attire lie here and there about the room, and clothes hung haphazardly from an open dresser drawer.

 

He went somewhere, but where?

 

 

Sighing, Papyrus pinched his brow.

"goddamnit, Fell." He groaned to no one. "i didn't think i'd have to play fucking detective to find you."

 

Whelp. He wasn't here, and Papyrus had no leads so... He chuckled to himself as he made his way back down the stairs and out into Underfell's unwelcoming night. 

Times like these call for a stiff drink.

 

Fell might be doing some overtime or something. Well, that's what he hoped anyways...though it was a little hard to convince himself considering Fell's armor was in the house.

 

Sighing, his mind kept him distracted as it wandered back to the little fight he and Sans had had before Papyrus got here.

 

Sans was so sure of himself, so confident and strong...

As much as he hated thinking about the battle he and Red had witnessed as they came out of the theatre, he had seen that same strength there within his brother.

The way in which they had twirled through the snow, Sans pulled Fell along as they both attacked and maneuvered with such expertise.

 

He really thought he'd never see Sans fight. Not really.

Even with Alphys' training, he knew it was all an act. Sans couldn't fight. He was weak and too soft, too kind to fight.

Alphys said it best herself, "He'd get torn into smiling shreds."

 

Papyrus protected Sans, babied him even, for his entire life.

 

Seeing Sans fight, seeing Sans be _able_ to fight, was something he never wanted to think of.

 

 

All of this, from Sans standing up for himself, him taking the initiative and holding his own, and making decisions for himself...

 

They were all cause of Fell, weren't they?

 

 

He reached the dimly lit, run-down bar. The smell of smoke and grease heavy on the air.

 

Papyrus sighed as he stood by the dusky glass front. He peered inside absently, taking out a cig. God, he really needed to find Fell-

 

 

 

Well, well, well.

Papyrus pressed close to the windows as he spied an unfamiliar addition to the scene. Hunched over the bar in his brother's well-worn spot was Fell.

 

A million jokes and cruel jabs easily came to mind, many bringing a smirk to his teeth. That is, until he got to wondering _why_ was Fell at the bar. And was he...drinking?!

He watched wide-eyed as the skeleton raised a glass to his teeth and downed it like the world was ending.

 

Well, shit.

After lighting up his cig and taking a contemplative puff or two, Papyrus stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets. He had not been expecting this, and he wasn't really sure how to handle it.

 

 

A group of monsters made their way forward, looking like they were...talking to him? Huh, Papyrus didn't know the ass had any friends. They blocked off his view of the skeleton and he went back to dragging on his cig a moment while he thought.

 

Should he go in? What if Fell doesn't want him around? And with him possibly being drunk, Papyrus wasn't so sure he'd want to be around either, especially if he had some friends-

 

A clattering sound made him turn to look through the glass.

 

 

The cigarette dropped from his teeth as he caught a glimpse of Fell, slouched against the bar in pain, the monsters around him clearly not friends.

 

 

Without another thought he threw open the door, and stalked forward, a magic bone manifesting in his palm.

 

 

Unnoticing of Papyrus, Fell begged before the monsters, "Please, jus' kill me." His voice slurred and eye glazed from his drink, he looked on with an emptiness that made Papyrus feel sick to the marrow.

 

"I will, bones. Don't you fuckin' worry 'bout that." The obvious head of the group, a fish creature, drawled drunkenly. "I'm just gonna get a bit a' fun out of ya first."

 

 

As the monster whipped out his dick, Papyrus raised his attack and snarled in rage, "like hell you are."

 

He smashed the bone against the side of the fucker's head, splintering the weapon and knocking him unconscious as he fell shamefully to the floor, his cock still exposed.

 

Straightening himself, he gave his knuckles a satisfying crack. His magic burned in his bones as he gave a deadly smirk to the group staring gape-mouthed, "anybody else?"

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans Reflections

 

 

Sans stood staring at the place his brother had once been. Thoughts and worries and fears boiled in his skull, holding him captive to the spot. What broke him out of his stupor was seeing Red beside him, fiddling with his jacket, that same empty stare mirrored on his face.

Red's brow was deep with worry, his fingers desperately working at his hood to try and ease himself.

Shaking himself from his uselessly rambling mind, he instead tended to his much more anxious duplicate. "Red?" He soothed, carefully touching a hand to his elbow.

The monster jumped before relaxing as he came back into focus with a sigh. "ah, fuck, Blue." He breathed, placing a hand to his chest. "ya scared me to death."

"I'm sorry," Sans apologized, gently taking Red by the forearm and walking them both out of the shed. "Why don't we go inside for a bit? You look tired."

Red nodded thankfully, his sockets lined red and deeply scoured with lack of sleep. He'd been working on the machine a long time apparently, neither resting nor eating. Sans was ever so thankful for his hard work, knowing that because of Red, Fell could come home.

 

He led Red in to sit down on the couch and went to the kitchen to make him some leftover tacos. He even mixed mustard in with the taco sauce, just like he liked. Gross! 

"Mweh heh heh! The Fantastic Sans knows when a friend needs a pick me up! And what better pick me up than some delicious tacos?"

"oh, uh...thanks, Blue." Red gave him a crooked, blatantly fake smile. His worry was obvious on his skull, but nevertheless, he took the plate and nibbled at the offered food. "you even put mustard in it for me, thanks!"

He nodded happily, glad to see the other him get some much-needed food. While Red got busy eating, Sans turned on the tv for them, hoping it would help take their minds off of things. After a few minutes, though, it was clear neither were really watching.

 

Red munched quietly, lost in thought, much like Sans was.

 

The silence was suffocating, even with the background noise the tv provided. The deadness of the air made it easy for his thoughts to bombard him. Would Papyrus be ok? What if he can't get back? What if the device breaks? What if he can't find Fell?

 

What if Fell really doesn't want to come back?

 

“Hey, Red?" Sans whispered, his soul churning in his chest. 

"yeah?" The other version replied quickly, as he swallowed his last bite down, seeming thankful for the break in silence.

"Can I ask you something...a-about Fell?" He held his breath, seeing Red's surprise.

The other him was quick to recover, "uh, sure, go ahead. though, heh heh, you probably know more than i do." He gave a devious grin and cackled, cheering them both up a bit despite his crude sense of humor.

Sans' mirth stilled with his thoughts. 

 

Though he felt Fell's love and care when they fought side by side, when that strange magic swept them both up in such wonderful excitement; he also had worries. 

Thinking back on before, on those images played on the screen, of whips and chains, leather and blood...

_You're certainly not his type._

 

The words still stung, still rang in his head, still planted seeds of doubt in his skull. 

 

Carefully, he asked, "It's about Fell and...Mettaton."

Red rolled his eyes. "Blue, ya don't gotta worry 'bout metal-ass anymore. he's dust, remember?"

Yes, Sans certainly knew. His marrow churned in his bones at the illness-inducing memory. He swallowed his disgust down and went on, "I know. But well..." He sighed, deciding to rephrase his question into something a bit more blunt, "Am I...Fell's type?"

The other him stared blankly before his signature cruel grin cracked across his skull. "w-what?! heh heh heh! Fell's _type_?! heh heh heh, are you serious?!"

Sans' cheeks burned from embarrassment. He didn't like being made the fool. "I'm serious!" He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat waiting for Red to settle.

 

Seeing Sans' pouty bit of anger, Red quit his laughing and cocked his head in confusion. "seriously?"

Sans sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I said I was serious!”

Frowning, Red shrugged. "i honestly don't know what you mean by his type-"

He didn't want to talk about what Mettaton showed him. In fact, he'd rather forget it altogether, but he had no choice. Sans told him about the whips and chains, leather and sharp utensils, the blood and growling words. About him being too soft and not Fell's type.

Red sat silent, toying with his plate, face flushed after his namesake. Once Sans finished, he merely stated, "oh."

"Yeah." Sans curled up on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest, tracing out one of many little stars on his pajamas. "Maybe..." He started with a hard swallow, his throat feeling thick, "Maybe I'm not his type. Maybe he doesn't want to be with me anymore."

To his surprise, Red snapped his head up at that and growled, "hell he doesn't! i don't know about his type or whatever, but i _know_ he wants to be with ya." He settled back down, though his eyes remained hard. "i've never seen boss so happy in my entire life. never seen him smile as much as he does when he's with ya. heh heh, didn't know he was fucking _capable_ of smiling like he does with you!" A grin worked its way to his teeth as he chuckled. "listen, Blue," He scooted his way over on the couch, taking one of Sans' hands in both of his. "i may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. i know that if it wasn't for you, boss would never have said the things he said to me. if it weren't for you, he'd still be a massive dickhead. and i don't care if you're his type or not; he fucking needs ya." He gave Sans a wink, "besides, i'm pretty sure he doesn't give a fuck how you guys are going at it in the bedroom."

Sans blushed brightly, his cheekbones practically burning at the statement. "I j-just want him to be happy..."

"he _is_ happy. and i don't know what happened with the machine, but i know boss, and i can tell that he really takes to ya." Seeing Sans still uncertain, Red sighed. "you're not gonna let this go, are ya?"

 

Twiddling with his bandana, he declined to answer Red.

"ah, hell...why are you two so stubborn?" Red grumbled under his breath before he suddenly vanished from his seat in the blink of an eye. A few blinks more and he was suddenly back, holding what looked like a book of some sort to Sans. "here, ya stubborn ass. knock yourself out." 

 

Taking it, he eyed the title, "Domination Guide". What a strange title for a book-

He blushed harder as he flipped to a random page, quickly snapping the thing shut. "O-oh!" He stammered, huddling down into his bandana from embarrassment.

Red chuckled. "heh heh, well...that's that. heh. but seriously, Blue," His gruff voice softened, becoming warm and comforting, "don't try to be something you're not. boss seems to like ya just fine, at least from what i've seen."

 

Getting up from the couch, Red actually took his own dish out to the kitchen. Apparently the task of the chore was more appealing than dealing with Sans any longer.

It didn't bother Sans. Taking the book, he went up to he and Fell's bedroom, excitement and fear spiking through his bones. He sat at their desk and opened the strange book, trying to wrap his head around what lie within. He studied the poses, at first he was so embarrassed he could only peek at the book through his fingers. Eventually, his embarrassment turned to confusion, and confusion into intrigue.

There was so much that he didn't know about. Could they actually _do_ some of those poses?! 

Sans shifted on his seat, trying to imagine he and Fell...

Smacking his hands to face he felt bashful and silly. _Sans_ would look silly...

 

But still...

Imagining Fell happy, that glint to his eye as he'd seen in that videotape...

 

Shivering, Sans grew in his resolve. Yes! He could do this! He was the Fantastic Sans! And the Fantastic Sans always tried his best to please his partner! Fell would want him! Fell would love him! 

...Fell would stay with him.

 

Reading through the book, he made little notes on a pad and took a list of things he would need.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus Reflections

 

 

The bar-crawling monsters quickly dropped their skeletal captive at Papyrus' threatening glare. Fell, weak and far from sober, slumped halfway to the floor as he tried and failed to catch himself.

 

Papyrus went forward to try and help and was met with that glazed, empty stare. "Is...is Sans?"

"he's at home, chillin with Red." He replied, trying to judge what he was thinking.

"Good." Fell simply replied. Though he kept his face a mask, Papyrus couldn't help but notice the disappointment in his voice.

He offered Fell his hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." While the monsters had retreated, he didn’t like the looks they were getting.

Fell took it, much to his surprise, but he apparently needed the crutch. The skeleton wobbled to his feet, using the counter to steady himself. 

 

Papyrus really couldn't help the smirk that worked its way to his teeth. "fuck, Fell..." Taking a look at where he'd been sitting he caught sight of the empty bottle of hot sauce. 

He gave Fell a wary, half-smile, sizing up just how bad off this guy was. "you _sure_ you're ok?"

Fell nodded absently, head bobbing as he did so.

Oh fuck. Fell was drunk as hell. As Papyrus got him steady enough to walk he leaned heavily on Papyrus. Out the door, along the dark, chilly roads...whew, he was really getting a work out from this!

 

Though amused by Fell's commendable inebriation, he also was a bit worried. Aside from asking about Sans he hadn't said a word. Which was _extremely_ unusual for the loud-mouthed skeleton.

 

Coming to the house he let them both in.

Grunting, Fell shrugged him off as soon as they were in the house and stumbled his way to the couch.

Taking Red's previous warning to soul, Papyrus locked up the front door before he came over and flopped down beside the other version of himself. His duplicate sat slouched, his beloved armor now lying carelessly on the floor, Papyrus noted with alarm.

"so, Fell-"

"I don' drink, y'know." Fell slurred quietly. He fumbled at his scarf mindlessly, lost in his skull. "I never liked seein' Red do it. S' awful an' ruinous."

 

Seeing that Fell was in a talking mood, Papyrus carefully asked, "so, why were you drinking?"

"Couldn' sleep." Fell mumbled. "Tha's all. I won't do it again. I jus'-" He stopped, snapping his mouth shut. 

 

"what's up, pal?" Papyrus soothed, really starting to feel a bit bad for the guy. He was an absolute wreck: mismatched clothes like he'd just thrown whatever on, damaged socket an angry and painful red, stench of hot sauce on his breath... Geez, yeah, Papyrus felt bad for the guy.

"Don' call me _pal_." Fell slurred, rolling his skull over to look at him with his good eye. "I know ya hate me."

Papyrus flinched from the statement. "what? no  i don't-"

"S' fine, s' fine." Fell waved him off. "Lots a' monsters hate me. An' I don' blame you, anyways. All the shit I've done ta Red, all the danger I've put Sans through..." He gave him a small smile, incredibly out of place for such a heavy topic. "I understand."

 

He paused a moment, swaying a bit in his seat before he seemed to suddenly remember something. "Ah, an' ya know what, Papyrus? I really think you're the best thing ta ever happen ta Red." The confidence he had before seemed to evaporate from him as he fiddled with his scarf a bit as he spoke, "Ya make him happy. He deserves it, as much'as I've..." His voice cracked, and with a swallow he instead said, "I know you'll keep makin' 'im happy."

Blinking incredulously, Papyrus just sat staring, not really sure how to process what was just said to him. 

 

"I hope Red didn' ask ya ta come back here an' try'ta bring me back." Fell looked up at Papyrus and held his stare. Despite being drunk off his ass he still kept his skull straight. "I'm not goin' back."

Fell settled down into the couch a bit more, seeming so much smaller without his armor. Nothing more than a beaten up skeleton that really had just given up. "It's better this way. You an' I both know it." He sighed, the action turning into a yawn of tiredness, "Tell Red I'm dead or somethin'."

Papyrus shook himself from his daze and felt...angry. He looked down at the other him, who was slowly falling into drunken slumber. "what about Sans?" He stated bluntly.

 

Fell's sockets snapped open as he winced before clenching a hand to his chest.

 

Papyrus gave him no mercy, "what about Sans? huh? you want me to go home and tell him you just threw in the towel?"

Shrinking further into himself, Fell sighed. "This's better for him." He stared off in thought, his voice hollow, "He's a good monster, he'll find someone better. I don' doubt it. He's everythin' anyone could ever want." Unguarded and raw, he rubbed a hand at his chest as if tending a sore wound. "I'm sorry he had ta go through all 'a this. I accept the blame. But I know you'll be there for him, like ya are with Red."

 

A hand lighted on Papyrus' arm, its owner holding a sobering somberness to his eye. "I'm very glad they have you."

 

The moment was brief, but it held so much weight. Papyrus felt a heaviness to his soul as he looked at the sad creature before him, giving him a rare, genuine smile. 

This was not who he knew. This was not the Fell that had come to Underswap with a vicious mission of conquering other worlds. This was not the asshole that he knew, not the scum that pushed other monsters around and laughed at their weakness, not the heartless monster that cared only for himself.

"Sans was right."

Fell had changed.

 

Fell's grin faltered at the sound of that name, he retracted his hand as if hurt. "I don' want ta hear about him. I...need ta move on." He quickly got a hold of himself and raised a brow to Papyrus. "And you do too. I don' know how ya got back here, but ya need ta go back home."

Papyrus shrugged and leaned back into the couch. "no can do. i told Sans i was bringing you back. i'm not leaving here without you."

Fell narrowed his eye to him, his familiar scowl scarring his face. "What?" He growled. "I can't go, an' I won't go. Sans could've _died_ 'cause of me! He was miserable an' lonely, and I knew he was in danger here!" Fell was practically on the edge of his seat, his voice raising to a scream, "I can't think straight 'cause of him! I can't keep control of myself with him! I can't...do anythin' right with him.

That's why all of this happened. I _allowed_ it ta happen. I know you know it's true! And I don' mean ta do it again!" Fell placed a hand to his face, rubbing gently at his ruined socket. His voice just a whisper, he spoke, "Papyrus, listen. I know I have no business askin' favors of ya, but, please...please leave." Papyrus was not fooled by the way Fell moved his hand, trying to act as if he were merely tending to aching sockets. He saw the glisten peek through upon the other's cheeks. Though trying his hardest to hide the tears, his voice croaked, "This's very hard, but I know it must be done. I won't let my feelings get in the way again. So this's how it's gotta be."

 

Papyrus cocked his head to him, surprised by Fell. He really did seem to care about Sans. "you know," He tested, "my brother saw something in you since the very beginning." Papyrus shrugged with a smirk, "i never did. and i sure as hell never believed him when he said there was a good side to you. nyeh heh, i never saw evidence of it. i think you're a huge sadistic asshole. you get a kick out of fighting, you've hurt a lot of people, you're violent and crude...even to monsters that care about you." There were a lot of things that Fell was, most of them not good.

"I know." Fell admitted, clenching his fist at his chest with a heavy sigh, the soul beneath it giving a faint, tired glow.

Papyrus looked him over, taking in this broken, regretful thing. This was someone who knew of their sins. And he was trying to atone for them. From making good with his brother, to isolating himself so that the ones he loved wouldn't get hurt...yeah, Papyrus felt like he really was trying.

"but Sans was right," He said again. "there is some good to you."

 

Fell whipped his head around to look at him, his sockets wide.

Papyrus shrugged. "you've really changed, Fell. and...well..." This was hard for him to say, but he knew them to be true. "Sans really loves you." He placed a hand on his shoulder, an offering of peace and warmth. He squeezed his shoulder with a soft smile. "he needs you, pal."

"I-I can't." Fell struggled under Papyrus' gaze, the war within his skull visible on his face. 

"yeah, you can." Heaving himself up off the couch, he stood before Fell and drew him out of his thoughts. "I believe in you." He held out his hand to him.

 

For a second, he looked as if he might not take it. He looked nervous and afraid and a host of other things, but what won out was hope. It sparked in that red eye of his, and carefully, gingerly, he let Papyrus help him to his feet.

Still swaying a little, Fell hissed and placed a hand to his skull. "Nyeh...I never wanna drink again."

Papyrus laughed and helped the guy along, happy to have had this little chat with him. With a feeling of hope and trust in his own chest, he and Fell made their way to the back shed. "come on, let's go home."

 

 


End file.
